Dreamer
by not-impressed
Summary: Dreams mean nothing. Dreams can't affect reality in any way. Or can they? Light is disturbed with his nightmares but what if his dreams start to interfere with his life in every aspect? Takes place three years after L's death. Slight AU.
1. Ch1 Nothing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch.1 Nothing**

It's seven in the morning. He squints, trying to avoid first rays of sun that are glancing off the shiny windows of the opposite establishments, hitting his pupils and temporarily making him blind.

Light Yagami sits on a kitchen stool, stirring hot coffee in his mug. He didn't sleep last night, and now when the early hours of the morning are here, he looks completely fatigued. His eyes are bloodshot and there are dark circles under them which make him look sick. He takes a sip of his coffee, trying to shake off that vexing weariness and prepare himself for another day of a hard work.

There is a strong, pungent aroma dangling in the air. He closes his eyes and inhales it deeply. Midst all-consuming scent of the expensive coffee he can distinguish faint touch of other odors: a smell of the hot oil still steaming and sizzling in pan, the savory scent of fresh toasts which Misa so kindly made for him, and a faint touch of the morning ozone air coming from the barely ajar kitchen window. It was raining heavily the night before, but now sun is shining brightly, making the puddles on the smooth, clean streets evaporate and fill the atmosphere with humid soft scent.

Light opens his eyes, aimlessly taking in his surroundings. Tiles on the kitchen walls are white and sparkling, his coffee is black and rich - some African grade if he remembers correctly. Slowly, he turns his eyes at Misa who sits right in front of him, peacefully sighing and looking out of the window, holding a teacup in her hands. The sunbeams are dancing on her fair hair, making them shine with myriads of colors, just like some diamond would reflect the light. She returns his gaze with a timid smile on her lips, and Light continues to stare right through his lover.

Everything seems to be fine. Yes, fine. He has his own apartment which is quite spacious and modern, just like he imagined it to be a few years ago. Misa may be annoying and skittish, but she's there for him, making him breakfast every morning, snuggling close to him those rare nights when he feels it's appropriate to sleep with her instead of pulling the all-nighters, pretending to be working on Kira case. These nights in the headquarters have become some sort of a habit for him – when clock shows 9 PM, he announces the end of the working day to the members of the task force, but neither of them leave until time hits 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning. In fact, when everyone is gone Light stays working in that spacious room. He explains his far too intense working pattern with his need to catch Kira and bring him to justice, but his words are plain bullshit. Those precious hours at night are his only chance to be left alone, not bothered with Misa's chatting and romping. That's the only thing Light doesn't very much like in his life now – Misa's obsession with him. Nothing else bothers him. Nothing gets on his nerves. Frankly, life goes on good. And will be getting even better when he's achieved his ultimate goal.

Yes. Everything's good. Nothing to be worried about.

"Raito..." Misa's voice breaches through his musings and Light focuses his gaze on her. She looks at him with mild concern, and then shakes her pretty head and smiles. "I've been thinking about going to Maldives on holiday. My manager says I can have two weeks off in July, so what do you think? Surely, you can postpone your work for our time alone? It's been a while since we last relaxed and had some fun, so I figured that our relationship just needs this trip! Just imagine, there would be only two of us, a beautiful ocean, the sky and the falling stars... Misa knows what her wish would be if she sees a star falling from the sky."

Misa looks at him expectantly, her eyes clouded with sweet dreams of her and her dearly beloved having a romantic night. She keeps on droning nonsense and Light gazes at her, barely containing the urge to make his disgust and disdain for her words be seen on his face. He normally doesn't get livid with all of Misa's sappiness but sometimes she pushes it to the limit. Maybe she's become too confident in her knowledge of having a certain power over Light. He can't get rid of her, he needs her eyes and has to keep her in his sway to make sure she won't make any mistake. Light knows it but nonetheless wants to slap her, wants to cover his ears or put a gag into her babbling mouth.

"It's not possible," he states simply, interrupting his girlfriend's stream of words. "And you know why."

She seems to be upset, but nods quietly anyway and doesn't say a word for the rest of the breakfast. When Light decides he's done, he stands up and heads for the door. He pauses then, his fingers wrapped around a door knob while he quietly instructs:

"The task force is due here in twenty minutes. Make sure you're not interrupting the work process and doing what I told you to do. Clear?"

He waits for an answer and when none comes he turns his head slightly so he can see Misa. She sits in exact same position as before and nods her head. The tea in her cup is long since cold and her breakfast lays untouched on a plate. Light exhales quietly and when he's about to leave the kitchen Misa stops him with her words.

"Why did you start smoking?"

He freezes for a moment but answers, his back still turned to her.

"I don't."

Light leaves then, not willing to stay a second more. Misa watches him go and shut the door behind his back, leaving the young woman alone in the clean kitchen which still smells like it should in normal families – coffee, freshly baked bread and Light's shaving foam.

He may lie, but she certainly witnessed Light smoking a cigarette on a balcony last night when he said he should spend the night working. For some reason this little lie makes Misa sad.

Birds are twittering outside, cars are passing by, puddles slowly fade from the streets and pavements, city greets a new day and everything's good. But still there's a small pain in Misa's heart and somehow she knows it's not because Light lies to her. It's because Light's sad. And it makes Misa want to do something, anything to comfort him, but there's nothing she can do. She hates this feeling of helplessness, and wishes they could really be a normal couple, not bothered with saving society from crime. But Light wants to rid the world of evil, and maybe that's why he's still not happy, maybe that's why the smile on his face is so insincere. And if the pure world is what can make him flash a real smile again, so be it.

Misa stands up and heads to her room, quietly closing the door behind her. She pulls the death note out of its hiding place and sets to work. Maybe then Light will smile lovingly at her again.

* * *

The room is filled with soft persisting hum of dozen computers. He hears a quiet rustle of papers in the folders; someone must be looking over the old data he was able to restore. He lets a noiseless sigh pass through his lips and glances at his wristwatch. It's only four o'clock in the evening. The time passes incredibly slowly. His eyes seem to be dead upon closing, and his brain shuts down every once in a while. Light thinks he should have another mug of coffee or at least make a break.

There are hundreds of words and numbers in front of his eyes, all typed in a bold black font which makes the contrast with the plain white background of his monitor unbearable. He reads the same line over and over, stubbornly trying to get the context of it though his mind seems to drift off every four seconds, not letting him succeed in his task. He feels exasperated and coldly peers into his monitor. Light thinks of the boredom he's so deeply submerged in. He didn't think this work would turn out being this vexing, but he needs to be here, he must control the only force left that's still trying to oppose Kira. Quite foolish of them. Though he might try to make them change their minds and even lure them on Kira's side, but he will do it later. Not now. Not so soon.

Light fidgets in his chair and lets out a soft sigh.

"I'd like to make a small break," he announces to his co-workers and immediately feels their eyes on him. "Don't worry, I won't be gone for long."

No one say a word to him, they just nod their heads, mumble affirmatively, and go back to their work. He smiles at them and walks out of the room.

Once he's gone everyone in the task force seems to share one common feeling – compassion. Aizawa shakes his head, clearly annoyed at something, Soichiro sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before setting back to his work with a determinant look on his face. Half an hour passes like this. Nothing breaks the silence established in the HQ except for the clacking of keyboards or occasional coughs. Touta Matsuda looks around, he peers into the faces of his colleagues and then stands up.

"Um... It's already been more than thirty minutes since Raito-kun's gone. He said his break won't take long, so may be... may be I should go and check if he's alright?"

"Leave him alone, Matsuda-san. Best we not know what takes him this long," Aizawa says sternly looking at the young policeman.

"But what if something happened to him? Raito-kun has been looking quite sick for the past week, I can't help but worry about him..." Matsuda sighs.

Light's father gazes thoughtfully towards Matsuda and suddenly the sharp features of his face soften.

"I noticed Raito's been down for a while. I would appreciate if he had someone around his age whom he could talk to."

Matsuda's eyes widen with surprise as he looks at the police ex-chief. He stutters while saying next words.

"You... You wouldn't mind if I talked to Raito-kun?"

"No," Soichiro smiles tiredly. "As I said, I would appreciate it greatly. But don't get your hopes up too much. You know how Raito is."

"I do. I will try my best." Matsuda smiles in return and eagerly walks to the front door.

* * *

At least another ten minutes pass during Matsuda's frantic search for Light. The delay is not his fault though. He was looking for the boy everywhere in the apartment and outside the building, going as far as storming into Misa's room and catching her changing clothes. That was rather awkward. His face turned glowing red and he immediately dashed out of her room, spilling excuses and asking Misa of Light's whereabouts through the safely closed door. Unfortunately she knew nothing and sounded rather worried upon knowing of Light's absence.

Matsuda feels upset. Such a simple task, - to find Light and talk to him, he can't cope even with such a simple task. He feels frustrated and walks to the balcony, sighing and looking down. His heart jumps delightedly in his chest upon seeing Light downstairs, standing at the porch alone. When did he get there? There was no one outside the building when Matsuda checked last time. But that's not much of importance right now, what important is that he's finally spotted Light.

He practically runs all the way down the stairs and stops only when he's five steps away from Light who's now looking at him curiously.

"Matsuda-san," Light says while peering at him, and then turns his gaze at the empty street. "I guess I've been here for too long, haven't I? I'm sorry they made you go and seek me out."

Matsuda still pants from his hasted running but shakes his head quite vigorously in protest to Light's words. But Light doesn't spare him a glance now, busy with a survey of the street in front of him. Young policeman glances there, too, curious to know what's there, that makes Light observe the street with such an intent. But there's really nothing that could worth such a level of attention. Cars rarely pass by, there is a little coffee shop across the street but it's closed and no people around are seen.

Matsuda looks at Light again and suddenly he feels uncomfortable. There is something about this boy, no, this _man_, that makes people feel uneasy in his presence. He can't figure out why he has such a feeling now, because when Light smiles or talks to him in a friendly manner, Matsuda feels alright. Appreciated even. But right now Light stands there, peering into nothingness. He seems too distant, too cold, and Matsuda finds himself asking why the hell he decided to talk to Light at the first place. As though he thought he could talk his way with the man.

When Light's alone like this, not being surrounded with his friends or colleagues, he seems different. And the sudden change of the atmosphere around this man makes Matsuda think of another man, whose presence roused the same awkwardness and suppressed fear inside of him. He's suddenly stricken with the familiarity of these feelings and starts fidgeting in apprehension. '_That's why Light's now in__** his**__ place. Maybe that's why Light feels so distant. Darn, maybe that's a curse of a title? Who knows? You gain the power but as a price you lose everything that's in your heart?'_

Matsuda wonders silently, still looking at Light as in a dream-state. Not for the first time he notices how actually good-looking Light is. '_Those shadows under his eyes are not so dark or large... yet. Could it be that with a title you don't just lose your heart but also get the horrible eye-bags in addition?'_

Matsuda feels regretful towards Light. Truly regretful and sad as he continues to gaze at the man, thinking about how awfully Light wastes his youth, sitting in the HQ for days and nights, endangering his life...

Matsuda's suddenly pulled out of his dream-like state when he sees how the young man whom he's just been thinking about, lights up a cigarette. Light still doesn't look at him as though Matsuda's not even there. He takes a long puff and exhales some time later, letting the nicotine filled smoke travel right into his lungs and merge with his blood.

Light's not used to this feeling. Cigarette smoke tastes badly, it's bitter and hot, he can feel it burn his throat and dissolve in his lungs, leaving bruises on their surface. With each pull at his cigarette he feels more and more intoxicated. His head is now aching and spinning, bile rises up his throat. He finally looks at Matsuda with such weariness in his eyes that young policeman gulps and steps closer.

"Raito-kun... what are you doing?" Matsuda's voice trembles a bit, and he tries to look into Light's eyes again, but the younger man turns his face away.

"Nothing," the word falls from his lips as he takes another puff. "Nothing."

Matsuda wants to ask Light if he's been smoking all the time he spent at the porch, but sees his answer before he opens mouth - there is a small pile of cigarette butts in a nearby trash can.

Matsuda swallows nervously and turns his gaze from the floor up at Light again.

"When did you start smoking?"

"I don't." comes the answer and Matsuda freezes, stunned.

"Then what is it... that you are doing now, Raito-kun?"

Light takes the last puff at his cigarette, extinguishes it and pulls out another one from the pack. Matsuda notices that there are only two left in Light's packet.

"Nothing."

Matsuda frowns then. It's clear that Light doesn't want a company now, but it is much clearer that he's also in need of help. Though Matsuda can't understand what kind of a help Light needs right now. '_Maybe I should try talking to him? I came down here for this sole purpose...'_

"Umm... Raito-kun is something bothering you?" Matsuda tries once again and Light glares at him as though he intends to say something along with the lines: _"Yes. It's you bothering me"._ But then his glare softens and a smile makes its appearance on his lips.

"Why?" Light asks, still smiling kindly. "What makes you think so?"

For the first time in his life Matsuda thinks that Light must be stupid. The cigarettes, the coldness and the exhaustion in Light's eyes are obvious evidences to make anyone understand that something is wrong. And this smile of his may seem genuine, but is it possible for one to smile sincerely while having this kind of... emotions in the eyes? Or maybe Light's just messing with him. Matsuda can't say for sure.

"Well... Everything."

"Everything, eh?" Light smirks and puffs out the smoke through his lips. "I've already told you, it's nothing."

Matsuda watches as Light staggers suddenly and then almost falls to his side. The next moment young policeman makes a break forward, catching and steadying Light, holding him by his upper arm until the younger man regains his balance. Light scoffs and roughly pulls his hand out of Matsuda's hold.

Utterly horrified, Matsuda watches Light pull out another cigarette. He looks at Light's slender fingers, they're trembling slightly, and the small fire from the lighter he holds trembles too. It takes Light a little too long to light up his tobacco but when it finally catches on fire, Matsuda can't help but notices how terribly the light on the cigarette's tip dances, clutched in between boy's still shivering fingers.

He silently watches as Light's fingers bring the cigarette to boy's lips and then Matsuda lifts his eyes and gazes into those of Light.

And Light stares right back. His gaze's changed, it's no longer filled with sadness or fatigue. No, Light gazes at Matsuda intensely, those amber eyes are burning furiously, and Matsuda thinks they're changing their color miraculously – from golden shade to mahogany and up to the vermilion hue. His eyes must be fooling him with the color thing but this is too much. Matsuda's never thought the trivial eye-contact can be this strained or frightening. He turns his gaze away, feeling even more uneasy than before. Something's definitely wrong about Light.

Light watches Matsuda fidget in front of him, feeling at least a little amused. It's quite ludicrous indeed how Matsuda couldn't hold Light's stony stare for a few seconds.

He sighs and takes yet another puff at his cigarette. He would be even more amused had he not felt a throbbing pain in his head. His organism is so defenseless against the unwonted poison that it is laughable. So many things are funny as of lately. Light wants to laugh, he wants to throw his head back and laugh hysterically, but the pain in his temples threatens to tear his brain apart would he do so. That's the only reason he doesn't laugh out loudly - pain is insufferable. Everything else is damn perfect.

So instead of laughing Light pulls out the last cigarette, and just as he lights it up and drags a first puff, Matsuda's surprisingly warm fingers catch his own, firmly holding his hand with a cigarette still clutched between Light's fingers.

Light looks at Matsuda, trying to force his mind to generate some question like "The fuck you're doing?" but in a more socially appropriate way.

Matsuda says nothing, just looks into Light's entrancing eyes, and breaks the cigarette between his fingers. It falls on the ground and lays there. Matsuda doesn't move and Light does neither. Light watches his cigarette smolder on the tiles of the porch, and stays silent. He then slowly turns his gaze at Matsuda, the latter still holding his hand and looking at him sympathetically. Matsuda then takes a step forward, standing inches away from Light's face.

He's never had a chance to look at Light from such a close distance. It's a wonder, he thinks. He could admire this boy like he was a genius painter's masterpiece. Every curve of Light's face is flawless, his skin is smooth and clear but it's the eyes that makes Matsuda want to come even closer to this creature, to touch him and become privy to the fascinating things Light is made of.

And when he dares to take one step closer, Light's eyes suddenly obtain cold and vehement expression. Light scoffs at him and tears his hand away from Matsuda's. He then turns his back and leaves without saying a word.

Matsuda stands there, stupefied, watching Light's cigarette smolder until last few sparks die out.

Now he sees clearly that he never had a chance to be close to Light. He can't understand him, can't do anything. It was Light's choice not to let anyone know of his problems, but it's Matsuda's fault he couldn't make Light change his mind, so Matsuda thinks. And worst of all, he still can't comprehend what is bothering Light so much. Is it Kira case? Is it his relationship with Misa? Is it something else entirely? There's no way to catch on to Light's problem, the only thing Light said to him was "nothing". But if there's something Matsuda's hundred percent certain about, it's that no sane person would have that kind of expression in their gaze over "nothing". But the truth is, there's really_ nothing_ Matsuda can do to make things better. He can't stop Light and he shouldn't even try.

* * *

A/N: Well, this is my first story and I'm kinda nervous about it. Thank you for reading, and I'm terribly sorry for any possible mistakes.


	2. Ch2 Vision

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters. **

**Ch. 2 Vision**

It's long past midnight. Light casts a quick glance at the watches and decides to stay up yet another night in the main room of the headquarters. It's quiet here. He likes this calm silence, it's much more easy to concentrate and sort everything out in his head when he's left to himself.

He bided goodbye to Mogi and Ide who were last to leave about an hour ago, and now Light sits at his table, looking at the monitor in front of him with unseeing stare.

He thinks of the next steps he needs to take in order to make his new world real, but nothing comes to his mind. He's still exhausted and sick, and for some reason he feels irritated with his work. Crime rate has fallen down significantly, most of the committed crimes are accidental, not grave, or the culprits proved themselves remorseful about their misdemeanor.

He ordered Misa not to write the names of minor criminals in her death note, and he doesn't kill them himself.

Light is bored, he occasionally makes his own researches for the unsolved crimes, and when he manages to solve a case, he writes down the criminal's name in his death note. Of course, his activity remains unknown for the task force or police, but that's just fine with him. No one needs to know that instead of trying to trace Kira, Light's busy solving the other, much less mysterious cases.

But right now he doesn't want to search for new clues or leads that would help him solve yet another cryptic felony. He feels enormously tired. The muscles in his body are limp and flaccid, and his mind well-nigh screams for sleep. Light pretty much realizes his organism requires a good rest, but still he doesn't move from his spot on a chair. He wants to smoke, badly. But he's out of cigarettes, he really didn't think he'd come to be addicted this fast.

"Raito, are you coming?" Misa's voice is heard behind his back. She stands at the threshold, already dressed in a short night gown. Misa looks at Light expectantly and he can clearly discern doubt in the tone of her voice. "You should rest... Misa wants her Raito to be near her this night, let's go to bed."

Light hears a cackling laughter that comes after Misa's words, and realizes that Ryuk must be standing there, too, listening their conversation.

"Go to bed. I'll come when I'm finished with the work." Light's back is still turned to Misa as he replies. "Don't wait for me, you should have a rest yourself."

"Raito..." Misa starts, but falls silent. When the silence lasts too long, Light finally turns around in his chair to face her.

"Hm? What is it, Misa?" he asks softly, ignoring shinigami's sinister grin behind her back.

"I love you."

"I love you," he replies and smiles at her. She beams in return and throws him a kiss.

"Come to me soon, promise?"

"I promise," Light replies, a serious look on his face, and she giggles winsomely.

"Goodnight, love!"

"Night, Misa," he smiles at her once again and then Misa walks away, closing the door behind her.

Only he and the shinigami are left in the room. Ryuk takes a seat in mid-air, right above Light's computer. The young man smirks at him and takes an apple out of fruit basket, throwing it to the shinigami a moment later.

It's always amused Light just how greedy the death god is for the apples. And Ryuk once again justifies his obsession, catching the apple with his jaws and chewing at it with great appetite.

"I'm bored, Raito." Ryuk manages to utter through his stuffed mouth.

"Yes, I've suspected this much. It's not much fun right now, but great changes take time and patience." Light replies with a rather smug expression on his face.

"Duh." the shinigami tries to throw apple core into the bin, but misses his aim and waves his disproportionally large arm dismissively. "I think you know very little of fun. And I'm already quite sick of all that sweet love you're playing with Misa. It always entertains me to see you lying, but she believes your every word, thus taking away all the fun out of it."

"Then why not go and have some fun outside? You know, it can be lots of fun watching other people." Light coolly suggests, glancing sideways.

"But I'm interested in _you_," shinigami points a bony finger at him and stares into his eyes. For the umpteenth time Light thinks that it is actually creepy to look into the eyes of death. Ryuk sighs and grumbles to himself, "it was much more fun earlier, when you were chased by that detective guy."

Light frowns, swiveling slightly in his chair, looking away from Ryuk.

"Indeed."

There's something in Light's tone that makes the death god feel small shiver run up his spine. Light sounds uncertain, as though he's trying to hide something while not being sure if it's actually should be hidden. Ryuk's intrigued now. He descents smoothly onto Light's desk and inclines forward, curious to see Light's face.

"You admit you miss old times, Raito, eh?"

But Light doesn't seem to be listening. He's deep in his thoughts, as time passes his gaze changes from fiery to almost gentle and then totally void. That is something new. Ryuk lets out small cackle, feeling glad he found new thing to make his fun of.

"How long has it been?" Light asks all of a sudden. His voice is soft and hushed, as though he's addressing no one in particularly and merely thinking out loud.

Ryuk doesn't answer, he doesn't want to ruin the mood. Yet again he's able to witness Light's personal moment and he's not going to mess this up.

"More than three years. It's May now, so it's three years and a half..." Light speculates further, his voice becoming more and more muted until he falls silent.

He keeps his head down and then a smile appears on his lips. It grows wider until it's not a smile anymore but an ugly leer, one that can compete with Ryuk's grin.

Light is laughing quietly now - small, nervous giggles escape his throat, grow in volume, reach their pick and Light laughs like a crazed man, panting and sounding euphoric and tragic at the same time.

He shuts up abruptly, looking somewhere with no expression on his face.

Ryuk squints, trying to make out if he sees tears in Light's eyes, or if it's just his eyes playing tricks on him. He gazes thoughtfully at the young man for a few moments and then smiles slyly at him.

"Dead men rise up never, ya know?"

"And that's for the best." Light turns his eyes at him. "Why telling me such a triviality all of a sudden?"

"Making sure you know it." Ryuk shrugs and takes another apple from the basket.

"Why?" Light inquires again, voice holding a hint of threat.

The shinigami munches on his apple while shrugging once again.

"I'm just curious, is it bad? You really need to chill out, Raito."

"You're bad at lying, do you know that?"

"Nope."

"So, there's really no reason behind your words? You said it to me just to test if I know such an obvious fact? Am I supposed to believe this, Ryuk?"

"Well, yes."

"Why are you escaping the matter?" Light narrows his eyes, a defiant look on his face.

Ryuk sighs and bores into Light's eyes with a creepily unwinking stare.

"Because it appears to me that you want a certain dead man alive."

Light halts for a moment but then arches his brow skeptically.

"Now that's just crazy."

"Really? Well, I don't think so." Ryuk grins and pokes Light at his sides. Chestnut-haired man frowns and looks at the shinigami with a bored stare.

"It's irritating as hell that everyone tends to deem me depressed about something. What's more frustrating is that even you seem to misunderstand my state of mind."

"Oh, but Raito, you _are_ depressed about something, aren't you? You don't even make an effort to hide your foul mood anymore." Ryuk snickers, and continues with a menacing glint in his eyes. "You can't sleep, you've started smoking, you're not so driven with your goal anymore. It's like you've lost your fervor. And you're really a fool in that denying of yours. You _do_ miss someone. And said someone being L."

"You're talking nonsense. Firstly, you're not human, you can't understand human motives, feelings or emotions." the frown on Light's face deepens as he speaks, "Secondly, how on earth can I possibly be depressed because of L? I admit, I do feel a bit fazed, but the cause of my mental state has very little to do with him."

"But not nothing," Ryuk interferes and Light looks at him quizzically. "You said the cause of your mood has little to do with L, not that it has nothing." Ryuk explains upon seeing Light's puzzled expression.

"Well, yes. It's just..." Light puts his fingers to his forehead in an agitated manner. He pauses for a second and then adds quietly, "I have strange dreams."

"Dreams?"

"Yes." Light lowers his head and takes in a deep breath.

Is it really worthwhile to tell Ryuk anything about his nightmares? The tricky shinigami might eventually turn everything he said against him. The best is to leave the conversation at it, not telling Ryuk anything more, not letting this creature know more of Light than it already does.

"So?" the said shinigami urges on and Light arches his brow.

"What? You expect me to tell you about my dreams?"

"Weren't you going to do just that?" Ryuk asks, perplexed.

"No. I have absolutely no reasons to tell anything about the meaningless bullshit my subconsciousness keeps feeding me with."

Ryuk smirks and flights up to the ceiling, spreading his wings widely.

"You are becoming interesting once again! Ya know, you've managed to entertain me a bit. I think I'll be having even more fun following weeks."

"Fine. As long as your fun has nothing to do with my work, it's just fine."

Ryuk says nothing in reply and flies out of the room through the window, cackling all the way. Light sighs and closes his eyes for a few moments. Only for a few moments. But it's enough to make him fall into a stress-inflected slumber.

* * *

_ I look around, squinting my eyes at the sun beams that are mercilessly hitting my pupils. The train platform is empty. No wonder though, it is old and seemingly long since deserted. _

_ There is an old and most likely broken train right in front of me. Its doors are open as if it waits for someone to come into its womb, and ready to start a journey. _

_ No people around are seen, no cries of greetings or goodbyes, no deafening hum and whistle of machines, nothing. _

_ I stand there alone in the almost perfect silence, the only sounds heard are my own steady breath, the ticking of my wristwatch and the rustling of dry leaves on a concrete surface of the old train station's ground. _

_ Casting a glance on the station's clock, I feel a ting of surprise - the clock face reads six o'clock. It can't be true - the sun is high above the ground, and I can tell that it is already mid-afternoon. Clearly, the clock mechanism is long since broken, for the surface of the clock itself is covered in dust and spider web. Why did I even feel surprised? As if I've expected this decrepit clocks to work properly somehow. _

_ Snorting, I am just about to look at my own wristwatch when I notice a glimpse of white at my left. I turn to see what it is, only to be greeted with the dull sight of seemingly endless railways spreading as far as the eyesight allows. _

_ I sigh silently and get back to the action I've been interrupted with. _

_ Strange thing, my watch reads the same six o'clock as the station's broken clock does. Frowning, I bring the wristwatch closer to my ear, listening carefully to its ticking. But everything works as fine as it should, even the hands on the dial move accordingly to the tick. Nothing is wrong. _

_ Taking a sit on a bench, I start to wait for something to happen. I don't even know what I'm waiting for, but the knowledge that something will eventually happen is too strong. _

_ There is no way to tell how much time's passed. This place is dead in every meaning of the word. The sun is shining brightly right above my head, but it didn't move a centimeter after all the passed time. Neither did clouds on the sky budge. _

_ Everything here is too odd, too unnatural. The more time passes, the more eerier I feel. Wind is playing with dry dead leaves, tossing them around the ground and onto the rails._

_ And the damned silence is too gloomy. It presses on my nerves, mocking me with its lack of noises and voices. I make an attempt to clear my throat and the sound of my own voice seems terribly loud, deafening._

_ What did I even forget in this god forsaken place? There is no answer. _

_ This Place... it clears my head of any thoughts I've ever had, without my will in doing so. I will myself to try and think of something, anything really. I just need to concentrate on my thought process a little more, it should be easy. _

_ I try to remember last information I got before I found myself here, try to ask myself questions. The easiest ones: what's the date? What did I have for the dinner? What was the last thing Misa said to me? _

_ The answers seem to come to my mind immediately, but vanish into nothingness even more rapidly, before I can catch onto them. This is nerve-wracking. And more, I suspect this Place to be at fault for my failed attempts of remembering anything. _

_ I get a clear and uncomfortable feeling that The Place just sucks in and devours any knowledge and memory I have. I shouldn't sit around. I have to get out of here._

_ As I stand up, the flash of white makes itself appear at my left once again. This time I'm sure I don't make things up, the flash was too real to be the product of my imagination. _

_ I turn to my left and peer into the same wast dull landscape - nothing there to be seen._

_ Is this Place playing with me? _

_I feel the annoyance raise its head inside of me and I open my mouth to say in a calm tone:_

_ "I'm not in the mood for playing your games. Quit it." _

_ The same eerie silence follows my words. I wait a bit, and just as I take a step forward, a tiny quiet laugh is heard. It's so small, so breathless, but it makes me halt in my steps, and my heart misses a beat. I breathe out quietly and arch my brow._

_ "Have I said something funny?"_

_ My voice is too loud for The Place. It echoes round the walls of the station and rings in my own ears. Nonetheless, The Place doesn't answer me, keeping its sinister silence. I scowl once again and simply resume my way out. _

_ One step, two, three, four... Somehow, deep down I know that The Place won't let me go so easily, and so I wait for It to stop me. And It does. _

_ I bump into the thin air that doesn't let me take any step further. It seems that air itself froze here, turning into a bullet-proof glass. _

_ "Don't want to let me go?" I smirk and turn around, strolling down the platform idly. _

_ In honesty, I am scared. Truly scared. But the fear has always only managed to make me more reckless, strong and thick. _

_ "I wonder why... Do you want something from me? Or are you that desperate for a company?"_

_ I laugh then, openly mocking the damned Place and its poltergeist, or whatever it is that inhabits the forgotten station. _

_ My steps halt to a full stop when I feel a __**presence**__ behind my back. _

_ It crawls under my skin, gnawing at my mind with its threatening silence and the sense of foreboding inescapable doom. _

_ The wind has stilled, everything's gone completely quiet, even the clock doesn't tick anymore. I glance up to look at the clock's face only to find that the numbers on them varnished, and the dial is now perfectly clear. _

_ Then the deafening thunderous voice breaks the silence, making me cover my ears and shiver with its strength. _

_ I can't make out the words it's saying, the voice just a mindless roar in my head. It laughs and screams something unintelligible, while I am forced to my knees with its pure inhuman strength. _

_ "Is that all you got?!" I scream at top of my voice, trying to shout down the poltergeist. I don't know what've gotten into me, but the anger and unreasonable irritation boil in my veins, making me want to smother the owner of this deafening inhuman voice. "Your show off did nothing to me! You're just a voice, you can't harm me, you're nothing!"_

_ I scream the last words, finally managing to shut down the poltergeist, and my own voice echoes off the walls, repeating the same "nothing" over and over. _

_ Everything goes quiet abruptly. I breathe heavily, almost choking on air, and dig my fingers into the cold concrete floor. _

_ It's bad. I shiver and try to get up on my feet, my legs feeling numb and heavy._

_ It all happens too quickly. I'm smashed back onto the ground, where I hit my head and hear a sickening crack of the bones. Without giving me a chance to recollect myself, something dark and enormously heavy constricts my lungs, and the only thing I see is the dark eyes filled with venom. They grow closer, and I can sense the deathlike cold coming from the creature, it makes me freeze with terror and I can't even screw shut my eyes, as much as I want to. _

_ I wait painfully for something to happen, trying to silence the fear that makes my body rigid. I can't take it for much longer and close my eyes, leaving the other four senses to function and aware me. Then the voice comes again, soft and quiet as the laughter I heard previously. It whispers one word into my ear:_

_ "Yagami-kun."_

_ I shiver under its cold breath, immediately knowing what this creature is. Whom does this voice belong to._

_ "No... No... No! No!"_

_ I mutter this one word again and again, delirious, hearing his dark chuckle above me and feeling his too strong hands drag me somewhere into the darkness._

* * *

A/N: Here we go with chapter two. I hope you enjoy the story so far and thank you for reading :)


	3. Ch3 Morning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch.3 Morning**

"Bad dreams again?" the shinigami grins gleefully, hovering inches above the young man's face.

Light opens his eyes with a start, heart racing in his chest and breath heavy.

Ryuk's leaning above him much like the poltergeist did in his dream. Seeing that monster's face so close to his own is the worst thing that can possibly happen right after awakening from the nightmare. Light crinkles his nose in disgust, observing grayish thin skin and milky-yellow eyeballs.

"Ryuk..." he says in strained voice, getting up from the floor. How did he even end up on the floor? Now his shirt is all wrinkled, and his hair messed up and disheveled. He looks like a total bum.

"Yeah?" the shinigami steps back, watching Light struggle to stand straight.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to watch me while I sleep?" Light grumbles and shoots him an annoyed glance. "More so, please don't hover over me. It freaks me out, you know, to wake up and see your face inches apart from mine."

"It's fun, Raito." Ryuk shrugs nonchalantly and follows Light out of the investigation room. "And I heard you mumble something in your sleep but I couldn't understand a thing you were saying. That's why I leaned in to you."

"Whatever..." Light rolls his eyes and glances out of the windows. It must be still early in the morning. The sky is still quite dark but has a soft purple tint at the east side of it.

He closes his eyes for a moment and exhales. His fingers grip the doorknob and Light opens the bathroom door, stepping inside.

"Leave," he says quietly to Ryuk, and the shinigami lets out an exasperated sigh, walking through the bathroom door and undoubtedly heading to the kitchen.

Young man takes slow careful steps to the sink, turnes the faucet on and lets water flow for some time.

He stares at the current of turbid water precipitating down the sink and into the drain. Water droplets are splashing around, rocketing off of the sink's ceramic walls but never leaving them.

Slowly, Light lifts his eyes to look into the mirror and stares at his own face, emaciated and tired. He grips the sink's edges as he leans closer to his reflection, closes his eyes and trembles slightly. He didn't want to sleep tonight. He didn't want to fall asleep and go through that labour of a nightmare yet again.

It all started not too long ago - five months or so, he can't say for sure. At first, everything appeared to be fine. The investigation made no headway just as he planned, he was the new L and it was him, who solved the cases and had the power over almost every legal (and illegal for that matter) authority. Misa got a promotion and gained more popularity overseas, having to depart to a new country practically every month. Light wasn't slightly interested in what exactly she was busy with – photo-shootings, film makings, modeling, whatever models did nowadays. He was actually glad with her trips, for he gained more time for himself.

And the first time his nightmare came to him was during one of the nights when Misa was gone. He lay in his bed late in the night and couldn't quite fall asleep, so overwhelmed and proud of his deeds, of himself. Bright future before his eyes, Light couldn't stop making plans, coming with new, ingenious ideas, each one better than its forerunner. He finally succumbed to sleep, closing his eyes, still wearing a smile on his lips.

And that's when it all began.

Curious thing is that the nightmare repeats itself every time he dreams of it. At least four things remain the same each time: the deserted train station, the broken clock that shows six o'clock, his unawareness of what's awaiting for him, and L's voice.

Sometimes the thing with L's voice doesn't shout at him and just speaks of something Light can't quite understand, nor remember in his dream.

And the worst of all is that every feeling he gets in his dream, every minute that passes there seem frighteningly real. He could feel the ache when the thing that had L's voice crushed him onto the ground, could sense the tiredness of pointless waiting, he could even feel the sunlight on his skin and touch of the wind in his hair. It's like the line between his dream and reality became ambiguous.

Yet there is a thing that bothers Light just as much as the realness of his dream: the nightmare is too long. Every time he wakes from the dream, it feels as if he had really spent all day waiting for something to happen. It frustrates and exhausts him even more than the lack of sleep.

Light lets a discontented murmur pass through his lips and turns off the faucet. He wonders just what the hell happened to him if he lets the water run uselessly for ten minutes straight, while he's standing in front of the mirror in some kind of daze. He then shakes his head abruptly, grabs the towel from a shelf and undresses before stepping into the shower.

Nothing's wrong with him. And these dreams mean nothing.

* * *

Misa lays in bed, wide awake. The alarm clock on a night-table shows 5:43 and now she's certain that Light won't come to her. His side of bed is empty, and the sheets on it lay crisp and cold.

She stretches out with her arm to gently stroke cotton bed sheets, wishing it was not a plain tissue that she touched so tenderly, but a warm, strong body of the man she loves. She sighs quietly, her fingers clutch at Light's pillow and she drags it to her side, holding it tightly and nuzzling into it. Light's scent, that pillow managed to keep, is faint and thin, barely noticeable, but still Misa can sense it – warm smell of milk and green apples – and it makes her happy and miserable all at one.

For the past months Light had barely touched her, his rare kisses were soft, and each of them was just a preposterous facsimile of what she knew loving kisses should be.

Still, isn't this what she wished for? Light says he loves her, says he cares for her. He is her man for god's sake. And Misa herself does everything for him, she's ready to give up her very life if that's what Light needs her to do.

Their relationship is an example of a perfect couple, and Misa's proud of such a huge achievement. Her friends are jealous of her, and it makes her beam each time she hears someone say how they wish to have relations as perfect as she has with Light. When she takes a detached view on Light and herself, she can't help but feel a bubble of happiness blow up somewhere deep inside of her. But apart from all this, she knows something's off. She can't quite understand where the problem lays and only wishes for everything to be fine once again.

Though maybe she makes these things up? Maybe there's no problem at all?.. In the end, Light is very busy indeed, and there's no wonder he's become so hot-tempered and distant. He just needs to take a rest. And when her Light's fine again, she's sure he will take a next step in their relationship and propose to Misa. This must happen, he loves her and his family simply adores Light's girlfriend. There are times when Misa allows herself to dream a little and imagine what their child would be like. She wants them to have Light's brilliant witty mind and irresistible charm, and they should inherit some of Misa's own features, too, like her eyes, or maybe her buoyancy...

Oh, god, heaven knows how much Misa wants to bear Light's baby. She wants all the current ordeal to come to its end and let the real life begin. The life, where Light rushes home after work and eats dinner with her and their child, where all of them are happy and take Sunday walks in a park, with Light carrying their shared baby in his arms. She wants to care for Light and another tiny human being. The life Misa longs for is much like a whole new world, and maybe... maybe when Light will succeed with creating of his new world, they can try and discover another world just for themselves, one that Misa dreams of...

She does a really good job ignoring and pushing aside their obviously incompatible conceptions of 'the new world'. But Misa will be good as wife and mother, that's what she's certain about.

She sighs contentedly, hugging the pillow tightly, soothed with these thoughts for a little while. Misa heard water roar in the bathroom couple of minutes ago, indicating Light was taking a shower, and now she hears him quietly stepping out of their shared apartment. She then rises up from the bed to get herself ready and prepare a breakfast for Light. He'll sure be surprised to come and find ready meal when he's back. Misa smiles to herself and thinks of the pancakes that would go nicely with Light's favourite coffee.

* * *

"Where are ya going this early in the morning?" Ryuk inquires, half singing the words while skimming next to Light, his wings barely moving.

"Grocery."

"Huh?"

"I'm out of cigarettes." Light sighs and masks his irritation with a calm tone of his voice. Damn shinigami. Must it follow him everywhere even now, when Misa's official owner of its death note? He curses mentally and explains further, in order to prevent any questions that may come next. "Most probably I won't have spare time during the working hours, so I decided to buy it now."

"Ah," Ryuk lets out a giggle and drifts closer to Light. "Will you buy me apples?"

"Will you go and pester Misa instead of me, if I do as you wish?"

"Deal."

Light smirks and then forces his lips to form a gentle smile as he opens the door of a nearby store.

Five minutes later Light hands a bag with apples to Ryuk, who looks enormously pleased, and watches the shinigami take off the ground and glide in the direction of his apartment.

He watches Ryuk until the shinigami is nothing but a small spot on the sky, and then turns around, starting for an opposite direction. He soon finds what he's been looking for – a narrow lane between two buildings, obscure enough to make him unseen for the prying eyes from streets and windows.

He leans against the wall tiredly, head bowed and hands clenched into fists. A long minute passes before Light remembers the reason he searched for this secluded place. He slowly pushes his hand into the pocket of his slacks and pulls out a cigarette pack and his lighter.

Polyethylene and paper being ripped off, Light tosses wrappers on the ground, pulls out the first cigarette out of pack and drags it to his lips.

Ah, that must be what he's been longing for. The first puff is pleasantly intoxicating, nicely scorching his throat and traveling straight down his breathing passages.

Light closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He must be going crazy but he can swear he smells the scent of sunrise in Shakujii park **[*]**, with humid tones of its cold river water and dusty wooden paths.

His head feels dizzy, and he smiles, taking another puff.

Light's thoughts suddenly change its directions and jump straight onto his past. More precisely to the short period of time when he studied at the university and on rare occasions L kept him company. Though, L insisted on calling him Ryuga at that time. Whatever. The man had hundreds of names and only one of them was real, the one Light didn't know until the very day of L's demise.

Out of the all days he'd spent with that strange man, Light vividly remembers just one. One and only day.

What a strange thing the memory is: the more time passes, the faster bad recollections fade into nothingness, leaving only pleasant ones behind.

Light is mildly nonplussed with the fact that he can barely remember how L looked like. Truly, must be some psychological mechanisms did their work to make him forget the appearance of his nemesis. His only recollections of L's looks are his horrible posture, quirky habits and L's eyes, that now haunt Light in his dreams.

Light throws useless cigarette butt on the ground and takes out the next cigarette from his pack, lightens it up as well and blissfully takes another drag. He closes his eyes and remembers the day he spent entirely with and for Ryuga. He smiles faintly as the memories bring with them scents of missed lectures, shadowed alleys and heated pebbles.

He clearly remembers that morning in early May, Ryuga and he weren't yet quite acquainted; well, this was true from his perspective at least.

Light was walking down the hallway, heading to his first class when he noticed Ryuga on a windowsill at the very end of the corridor, snuggled in his awkward position in front of his class-room. It was obvious that the detective was waiting for Light to show up, but nonetheless he preferred to play a poor act of surprise, waving at him with a wooden smile plastered on his face.

"Ryuga," Light called and hastened a tad in his steps. He walked towards his supposed co-student and smiled at him, not letting his inner disturbance show.

"Good morning, Yagami-kun," L answered and hopped onto the floor, standing hunched, with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.

"I didn't expect you to be here today."

"You couldn't have expected me to come, that's quite normal."

"Anyway, what brought you here? Is something wrong?" Light inquired, not being able to ask straight about the investigation, with streams of students walking past them.

"No matter what, I'm still a student here, Yagami-kun. Besides, I merely wanted to spend some time in your company, if you wouldn't mind."

Bullshit. L was there to watch him and probe and test Light in every way he could. But such a step from L gave him an equal opportunity to know a little more about the detective.

"Of course I'd never mind such a gesture from you, Ryuga," Light said politely and smiled. "Would you like to go somewhere else?"

L looked at him a bit puzzled but Light knew the other was just putting on an act. How cheap.

"Has the class been cancelled?"

"No. But wouldn't it be more convenient if we were outside the university?" Light flashed him yet another smile and quite suddenly L's lips curled at the edges in response.

"I believe you to be right."

They walked out of the Tôdai establishment in silence, Light's mind busy with generating new, possibly unforeseen and unsuspicious ways of getting some information out of L, while the dark-haired man strolled casually next to him, seemingly not giving a damn about a thing.

They walked down the busy street, surrounded with passerby's voices and city's vigorous hum that masked the silence between them so conveniently. Light was sneaking glances at Ryuga from time to time, not really understanding the reason of his own surreptitious glances.

He was partly annoyed with Ryuga's obstinate silence and partly worried that the man had come with some sort of plan Light was not prepared to repel. The only thing Light deemed to be pleased about at that moment was Ryuk's absence. About a week ago the shinigami had proclaimed Light's classes to be too boring and ever since Ryuk entertained himself with flight trips in close vicinity while Light was busy studying.

Good ten minutes passed before they reached an entrance to the underground and Light stopped there, making L halt as well.

"Hey, Ryuga, we got a whole day ahead and I thought we could take a promenade in a park. What would you say?"

L pressed the tip of his thumb to his bottom lip and chewed on it softly, looking at Light with unblinking stare.

"I appreciate your idea but wouldn't you mind telling me the reason of your stop here?"

"What do you mean 'the reason'? We need to take a subway ride in order to get to the park."

"There is a park about sixteen feet away from here," L informed him, voice holding a tint of sarcasm. "I fail to see a reason for the long trip you suggested."

Light suddenly wanted to punch the face, that looked at him with a deadpan and secretly smug expression. He easily restrained his urges though, and laughed heartedly.

"I know that, Ryuga. I just wanted to show you the place I love to visit."

"Hm..." L hummed thoughtfully in form of reply but nodded his head anyway.

Light curtly smiled at him once again and stepped on stairs, turning his back to L.

"The trip's going to take some time, but I don't see a problem with this," he spoke up quietly, addressing to his partner. "We can always spend time talking, ne?"

"Agreed," was L's reply and much to Light's surprise the detective smiled at him for the second time that day.

A small vague smile plays at Light's own lips as the young man remembers the inner turmoil he was dealing with on that day.

He sat on the underground train seat with L at his left, the detective showering him with mostly inessential questions, asking of Light's choice of university, favourite food and such, and listening carefully to boy's answers.

It confused Light greatly to be subjected to that kind of interrogation. Why did L bother with Light's favourite color and preferred car brand? Young man was sure L merely wanted to beguile him and then throw some sneaky question. The bastard.

Light knitted his brows slightly, crossing arms on his chest and leaning back in the chair. It seemed that L decided to take their little pretense of friendship further and act just as friends would.

It irritated Light greatly to hear L's voice babble nonsense in a relaxed tone, mostly because it simply did not suit the detective. It was fake to the core and grated on boy's ears, making him cringe inwardly. He sighed in relief when the train finally arrived at their station and the detective had to shut his unusually talkative mouth to hurry and follow Light, who very promptly exited the train.

"Ryuga... what's wrong?"

They already were on their way to the park, pacing leisurely through the uncrowded streets of a district that was situated fairly far from the downtown. The road they were moving through was not a street but rather a narrow lane between closely stacked dwelling houses. The clock showed eleven in the morning and the sun had already started to heat the air, pointing to unusually hot day.

Light asked his question, sneaking a half-worried glance at L. He was mildly disturbed with the strange attitude the detective was showing for the past hour, and decided that a straightforward approach would be the best he could possibly master at the situation.

Although he couldn't care less if something was wrong with L himself – the more problems the annoying brat had, the better it was for him. But L's strange behaviour wasn't something he could easily brush off, for any sway could be a warning sign for him. He couldn't afford making mistakes. Thus, Light had voiced his worries out loud and waited for L to reply.

The detective looked at him, tilting his head to the side.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" he simply asked, not taking his eyes off the young man for a second.

"The way you act seems a bit off to me." Light truthfully replied, scoffing mentally. He hated L's ways of avoiding answers to questions.

"Does it? I can't see anything wrong with myself, Raito-kun."

"But I can, Ryuga. Are you playing games again?"

"Playing games with you wasn't on my mind." L answered and suddenly stopped, looking up at Light with round eyes. "Is Raito-kun angry with me?"

Feeling the waves of utter anger washing over him, Light looked at the feigned innocence L was showing and then turned his back to the detective, resuming the way.

"No. It's just I've expected you to talk to me about Kira."

"Why? Does it bother you?" L asked, sneaking to his side once again.

"Of course it does!" Light snapped, letting some of his anger show in his voice. "You suspect me of being a killer, how on earth can I not be bothered?"

"But you are not guilty, are you? No need to get tense, Raito-kun."

"I am not tense. It's your attitude that confuses me."

"Really? Well, I thought since we are friends, we could just talk to each other. I'd be glad to get to know you."

Friends, huh? Get to know, he said. L had already known every little aspect of Light's life, having set up the surveillance at his house, what a lame excuse to conjure.

Light closed his eyes for a brief moment, weighing out pros and cons. Why did he care anyway? L hadn't yet asked a single question that could be related to Light's doings as Kira. And if the detective was planning to throw a tricky question, Light was sure he'd be able to counter it.

He glanced at Ryuga who was looking around with unimpressed expression on his face.

"Right. I'm sorry Ryuga," he muttered, "I must have gotten worked up. It would be an honor for me to get closer to you."

"Never mind that," L shifted his gaze at Light, looking thoughtful. "Must be the stress of you being suspected and the sickness of your father had you worn out."

"I guess you're right."

"Speaking of that, how's Yagami-san?"

"He seems to be getting well, thank you," Light smiled and received a crooked smile from L in return.

The rest of the day Light spent with the detective, talking about nothing in particular, just like L'd said they would.

The walk with L was something Light hadn't expected or experienced in his life before. When L pretended to stop being his cunning and selfish self, that tried to corner the younger one, he represented a surprisingly nice company.

Walking through the alleys, skipping stones into the pound, having lunch in a small cafe - it all seemed effortless and easy. For a crazy splitting second Light caught himself on a thought that he almost believed L's act. He had almost relaxed in L's presence, which could've turned in to disastrous blunder.

It was late evening when they decided to part their ways. L called Watari, asking the old man to pick him up, and when the car arrived, he turned to face Light before getting in to it.

"Thank you for today. The walk with you was much enjoyable."

"Thank you, Ryuga. We should repeat it sometime." Light smiled at L and immediately noticed his partner's eyes obtain voidness. It had already happened earlier during their walk, but the thing that bothered Light at the moment was a slight glimpse of sorrow in that void eyes. That just wasn't right. L couldn't feel sorry or sad, just as Light couldn't afford these emotions himself.

"Yes, we should," was L's soft reply. "It's rather late now, I'll take you home."

"No, thank you. That's okay, I'll walk home. See you," Light waved his hand, gesturing for L to get in the car alone.

"Goodbye, Yagami-kun."

Light watched the car drive away and merge with the busy flow of the streets. Ryuk made himself appear at the left side of the young man, descending smoothly from above.

"That was weird," the shinigami cackled, following Light, who started walking towards the nearest underground station.

"He's onto something," boy muttered, glancing at the shinigami. "How many apples exactly do I owe you for staying away for practically all day long?"

"Ya'll have to reckon for it till your last day, Raito," Ryuk widened his grin and poked Light in the back. "I may not be as clever as you, but I didn't notice a single tricky move from that guy today. Had he gone nuts?"

"Can't you see it yourself?" Light retorted, gritting his teeth. "He's frigging playing with me all he wants. Being friendly and talkative, and then making those doe eyes at me, as though he actually regrets something. Son of a bitch."

Ryuk's laughter bursted in his ears, and he shot a stony glare at the shinigami, asking quietly:

"What's so funny?"

"For a moment there I thought you fell for his trick."

"It's indeed funny, Ryuk, for I thought the same."

"Huh?" Ryuk's face clearly expressed confusion. "Whatcha mean?"

"I've let him come too close to me."

The god of death looked at Light thoughtfully for a moment, and leaned closer to the young man.

"Do you regret it, Raito?"

"Not in the least."

A 'humph' escaped shinigami's throat and for the rest of Light's way home Ryuk stayed silent.

The next day Light learned of Misa's imprisonment.

* * *

**A/N: That was kind of long and kind of pointless chapter o_O I wanted to split it in half, but couldn't find a right place to do it. Anyway, thank you for reading.**

**[*] - a real place in Tokyo. It's a beautiful park in Nerima ward, google it if you're interested. By the way, the park that Light and L are visiting in this chapter is Shakujii.**


	4. Ch4 Echo

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 4 Echo**

He leans heavily against the wall yet again, allowing his exhaustion to take over for a little while. May be smoking wasn't that good of idea after all. Three cigarettes – and his head spins and his feet almost give way under him.

Now that Light thinks of it, he's sure he knows why did L decide to talk to him on things that did not pertain Kira. L must have thought he saw Light at large for the last time. Ridiculous. Did L really think Light would give up that easily?

Light snorts disdainfully and takes the last puff at his cigarette.

"Raito..."

Voice that he hears is a little hoarse and clearly holds a shocked note in it. Light suddenly feels as though he's sixteen again, wanting to hide his right hand behind his back so that his father can pretend he did not see the cigarette between Light's fingers. As if smoking is something his father can scold him about now.

"Father."

He doesn't dare to look in his father's eyes, he doesn't want to see the confusion that Soichiro's gaze surely holds. Instead, Light stares at the ground and takes a notice of his father's shadow at his right.

They spent around forty seconds like this, his father and himself not moving an inch.

"I'll be going to your apartment," he hears Soichiro's voice again. When Light doesn't answer, Soichiro speaks further. "Come there when you are finished. I want to talk to you, son."

"Of course."

He sees father's shadow nod and turn around, moving away and stretching out until the dark silhouette is mostly unrecognizable.

Light doesn't understand just _what_ is wrong with him. This lack of understanding of his own motives and actions drives him crazy, infuriates him to no end. Sometimes he feels like he wants to scream on top of his voice, crash his fist against someone's face repeatedly and bang his head against some brick wall, till his mind is cleared of all the thoughts.

He throws long since burnt cigarette butt on the ground, smashes it with the sole of his shoe and steps out of his hiding place.

When he's only twenty feet away from his house, Light stops, turns around and walks hastily back towards the road that's already busting with cars and buses. He raises his hand, waving it, and soon a taxi stops in front of the young man.

"Nerima, Shakujii park," Light says after getting into the car.

The driver glances at him through the rear-view mirror. The cabman is rather old; there's a web of wrinkles around his eyes, that are slightly narrowed now, when he smiles at the young man.

"Oh, Nerima," the geezer sighs and starts the car, maneuvering his way through the traffic, "Son, it's a long way from Chiyoda."

"I'm very much aware of this."

"It will cost you about 20000 yen," the old man warns him, as though he hopes Light will change his mind.

"I know."

"Tch," the cabman now looks at him with some kind of accusation in his eyes. "The youth. Never think about the consequences. When you're older, son, you will learn to value money, that's how the life is. Let me tell you about it some more: it all starts when you marry some young pretty woman. You love her and shower her with useless gifts, so that she learns to love you in return. Because they're never in love when they marry you, no. You should teach your woman how to love you, believe me, I've seen enough in this life. Years go by and then suddenly you find yourself here! With three children and old woman, all living on your expense, while you're busy breaking your back to keep them fed and happy. And some of your former classmates lead a life of luxury, though they've never faced difficulties that were on your road. You know, son, I always find myself questioning God where is the justice in this whole life..."

Light feels his eye twitch slightly while listening to geezer's twaddle. He decides to ignore the cabman's blab for the rest of the trip, settling his attention instead on his own thoughts. He doesn't quite get why did he feel the sudden urge to visit Nerima. Now, when he's half-way to his destination point, he's reluctant to actually be there. He should have stayed home, he thinks while watching the scenery pass by behind the window.

"...and the government system is the last thing you should care about. Ask no questions and hear no lies, that's it. When we were young, we were so determined to set our country back on its feet, we did anything that was told, and now I think it was a great mistake. You should live for yourself because in the end no one will-"

"Stop over here, please." Light interrupts the driver, and the car soon stops on a roadside near the high metal fence.

He pays and leaves the taxi. The cabman calls something after him, but he doesn't bother to turn back. Once again Light ignores dodderer's words and quickly walks down the curb and towards the park that he used to know so well.

It's quiet here. Birds chirp somewhere above him, hidden in the thick crowns of trees. There are few people that sit on folding chairs around the pound, must be fishermen, with rods clutched in their hands and large buckets close to them.

He quietly walks on a dirt path around the pound, hands folded behind his back. Why the hell is he here now? Isn't he supposed to be having a breakfast with his father and Misa? It is really sick that he loses control over his own actions. He just needs to get rid of his nightmares and everything will be fine again. The nightmares are the reason of all the crap that's been happening with his mind lately. No way will he let these mere dreams to lead him astray. His will is strong enough, and surely Light will soon find a reasonable way to stop the dreams. Because the 'no sleep - no dreams – no nightmares' scheme doesn't seem to be working well for him.

Light sits down on the nearest bench and bows his head, clutching his hands together tightly. Everything's going to be alright. There is no reason to worry. Everything will be fine.

These words, that he keeps repeating to himself manage to sooth him somehow. Light lets his head fall back and his body relax on the firm planks of the bench. His eyes flutter closed, and for the first time in a long while he feels calm.

He doesn't notice the moment he loses bond with reality and falls into the deep pit of his own murky subconsciousness.

* * *

_Wind rolls dry leaves across the railways. The sound that leaves make along their way is rather pleasant - dry rustle and soft whistle in my ears. I glance at the watches impatiently, time shows six o'clock. Is it six in the morning or is it evening? Neither correct, the time itself has stopped long ago in this Place. _

_ Sun shines brightly above me when I rouse from the bench and start pacing along the platform. The waiting can be a tad more bearable when it is endured keeping oneself occupied. But what am I waiting for? Why am I here? I don't know. _

_ A glimpse of something white flicks and dissolves swiftly right before me, and I stop in my meaningless stride. I would not care in the least, haven't I noticed the outlines of human body in that flicker. I'm not frightened with this strange occurrence, somehow. On the contrary, I feel curious and intrigued rather than scared. Stepping forward, I lick my lips before saying with uncertainty:_

_ "Oy... Is anybody here?"_

_ I wait for reply, but none comes. And just as I'm about to go on with my leisure stride, a short electric current goes up my spine, making hair stand on the end. Something... something isn't right. _

_ I freeze at one place, feeling pure nauseous fear raise its head deep within me. Legs numb, I force myself to turn around and see what is there, right behind me. _

_ Faded blue jeans, white shirt, mess of hair... I stare at the painfully familiar face for a long moment before managing to hoarsely say only one word:_

_ "You"._

_ Your face remains emotionless while you look at me with an outright bored stare. I don't know what I'm ought to feel, thoughts twirl in my mind. _

_ I hate you. But the hatred is not the only feeling that I have. I am actually scared of you, and the fear makes me loath you so much more. You should have stayed dead, you should have rotten six feet under and never make yourself appear before me again. _

_ "Do you recognize me?"_

_ Your voice is quiet and soft, you speak to me in your usual indifferent monotone voice and suddenly I find myself at loss of words. Suddenly I'm reduced to a wordless and pathetic mess. _

_ It is stupid, stupid, stupid, all of this is enormously fucking dumb! You are dead and I can't really hear your voice again, I can't see you! Then why are you talking to me? _

_ Screwing shut my eyes and closing my ears, I try to think of something that can make your image go away, but the only thought that reels in my mind is that this situation, all of this, is wrong. It can't be happening. I can't feel like I do – lost, dazed and almost hysterical. _

_ You stay silent all the time, watching me with an unblinking stare, your whole body unmoving. My heart is still racing in my chest when I look at you once again, brining myself to calm down._

_ "Do you recognize me?" once again you repeat the words, eyes fading dull. "Do you recognize me?"_

_ Fascinated, I watch your lips move slowly, not coinciding with the words you speak. You ask me the same question over and over again, not waiting for me to answer anymore, staring blankly right through me. It's almost like you've become a broken record, that mindlessly repeats the words that do form a question but have no sense._

_ Your voice start to fall quiet, contours of your face and everything around blur at the edges, bit by bit losing form and sharpness, until eventually my eyesight goes blind and I can not see, nor hear anything._

_ It's the middle of the usual gray day - neither more, nor less gray than any other, - that I meet in suburban train in a foreign but beautiful country. You sit in front of me, looking out of the window, and I look at you. A countryside landscape sweeps past in your eyes. They are so deep. So obscurely gray. This day is not in the least as gray as your eyes, which seem almost black. Pupils are indiscernible and I can swear your eyes have fathomless depth. Your gaze makes my heart beat inexplicably faster. _

_ I watch you blink and I feel scared. Scared, that you'll close your eyes and I won't see them again. Your eyes seem to be the only thing that isn't gray in its essence, somehow._

_ Speakers announce the arrival. You stand up and head for the exit. I go right after you. I follow you. I follow you, but you dissolve in the crowd. Shall I ever see you again?_

_ The next day I sit in the same train, same wagon. I don't know why. Weak hope and firm belief guided me. And... you are there. Once again I sit on the opposite side of your seat. And once again you look out of the window while I look at you. _

_ A week passes like this. We meet every day; I get on the train and take a seat in front of you, sometimes idly watching the scenery outside the window, sometimes looking at your eyes. I feel rather awkward. And I'm sure you took me for an awkward type too. You should have already learned my name though. I 'dropped' my business card and you handed it back to me. _

_ I don't know how to start a conversation with you, what to ask you about. You don't seem the type to talk to strangers, and I don't want to scare you off. You've probably started to recognize me. _

_ The days go on being gray, your eyes stay sombre. We ride in the same train, same wagon, same time. _

_ That is until I have the courage to take a seat next to you. I notice how your eyes grow just a tad wider. Still we don't say a word to each other. I glance at you, at your eyes, probably for the last time._

_ "I know your name." _

_ Your voice surprises me. It's low, and it matches your eyes in the way it sounds. And when I turn my head, you're looking right at me for the very first time, and there is a tiny spark of playfulness dancing in those dark pits of your eyes. _

_ "I held no doubts in that. I dropped my card having this purpose in mind, after all." _

_ We are standing at the platform and look into each other's eyes. Our train's passing by, and we know we won't ever take a ride on it again. We are happy. Happy, as human beings can possibly be, when the happiness itself comes to them. When everything changes in a flash, and all that happened before doesn't matter. The kind of happiness that stays with us forever. _

_ There's something sparkling in your eyes, something deep and intense. Something, that lures me, and I take a step forward, overwhelmed with desire to look into your eyes from closer distance. And maybe even trace my finger down the soft skin of your cheek. And maybe even go as far as to press our lips together. I want to do it._

_ I take a final step, and lean closer to your face. Your eyes flutter closed and I can feel the puffs of your warm breath at my lips. _

_ Something hits me in the side a split second later, and I fall down..._

* * *

Light lies on his side on the ground, almost curled into a fetus position. His fists tremble ever so slightly on his knees. He struggles for breath so hard as if the air in his lungs had miraculously turned into some viscous substance, that sticked onto his breathing passages and solidified there. He feels as if he's going to faint. The dream he just had... What was it?

"Shit..."

It's just now that he notices a group of people gathered in circle around him. Those passers by are gaping at him, curious and alerted, as if he's some kind of a wild animal broke loose.

Light stands up and shakes the dirt and dust off his shirt and pants under the scrutinizing eyes of people around him. It doesn't take him long to notice and fish out few leaves that are stuck in his hair. What a disgrace...

"Are you alright?" The middle aged man asks him, standing about two feet away. Clearly, he wouldn't be asking Light any questions, were Light wearing a t-shirt and jeans instead of suit. No one wants to deal with a junky-looking youth.

"I think I'm fine, thank you," he mutters. "It was a mere faint. Shouldn't have forgotten about my low blood sugar."

He fakes a light-hearted laugh and the crowd around him finally starts to disperse.

"You should sit it out so you won't faint somewhere again." The same middle aged man tells him, nodding at the bench behind Light's back.

"I believe you're right."

He sits down onto the wooden bench, careful to act as someone who's just fainted.

"Well then... Take care."

"Thank you."

The man nods, mostly to himself, and resumes his way down the alley.

Light watches as he slowly disappears in the distance before he stands up to walk in the other direction.

Well, he's obviously not alright. What's with this random slumber? What's wrong with his mind? And what the hell does he dream about? As if the nightmares weren't bad enough, he now has to suffer this kind of dreams? It's... wrong.

It's the park that should be at fault for the sudden change of his dreams' scenario. This place holds some memories of L and him, so of course everything that happened in his dream was just a play of his memories, generously embellished with his imagination. Just a coincidence. A misfortune. Right?

But there is another thought that lurks somewhere in the back of his mind. What if all of this has a meaning? Coincidences are nothing but lame excuses, so every little thing that happens to him, happens for a reason.

Light halts his steps abruptly and flops onto the nearest bench, slumping his back and clutching fistfuls of his hair.

He sits still on his spot, suddenly feeling afraid to make a move. He needs to calm down. There is absolutely no point in getting this worked up. He's being too tense, too keen. Light flinches visibly when the cell phone goes off in his pocket. Cursing under his breath, he pulls it out and answers the call.

"Raito. Where are you?" he hears Soichiro's voice. From the tone it is obvious that his father is worried. "I've been waiting for you for more than three hours, Misa is beyond worried and so am I."

He hears Misa squeaking something to him but can't make out the words, for his father's voice is getting loud and demanding.

"Work's started two hours ago and I expect you to appear in the HQ soon, Raito."

"Of course, father. I'll get there as soon as possible," he replies calmly.

"Please, be as kind," his father retorts in a rather angered tone and hangs up.

A small frown makes it self appear between Light's brows as he stands up.

His current behaviour is not just unreasonable, it is simply idiotic. He dashed over here having absolutely no reasons for doing so, he wasted yet another night, and now he's starting to think that his own vacant actions did have a meaning in them. What a crap.

He takes a deep breath before walking back out of the park and to the highway, where he stops a taxi and heads back to his apartment. There is no chance he would ever take random nonsense of his random dream seriously. All that he needs is to concentrate on his work and let nothing interfere with it.

* * *

A/N: Just wanted to say that as you might have guessed from here on dreams will become different and gonna be kinda fluffy. Oh, and do you guys know Ólafur Arnalds? He's an icelandic composer, I think, and writes some good music. Try listening to his song '1440', it's amazing. And sorry for mistakes I'm sure I made.


	5. Ch5 Drawbacks

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 5 Drawbacks**

It's been almost two weeks since that incident in the park. And the nightmare came to him only two times during those weeks. Two times. It's almost the damn victory. When he'll have managed to reduce the frequency of his nightmares to one per month, it will be the real triumph.

Light did find a relatively reasonable solution for his problem sleeping – doses of strong soporific proved themselves effective. Now, when he falls asleep completely exhausted and drained of all strength, the only thing he sees behind his closed eyelids is endless darkness, void of thoughts and images. The only drawbacks sleeping pills have are his now constant fatigue and drowsiness. But these side effects are bearable, at least the look of discontent on Ryuk's face rouses a tiny bit of satisfaction deep within Light. He knows that the shinigami was waiting for him to break down and thus provide more fun for Ryuk. Well, the shinigami may as well go to hell. He will not be broken that easily.

Small complacent smile on his lips, Light takes his daily dose of three pills before making his way into the bedroom and stretching on the bed there. It seems everything is sorting out yet again. Misa is away, busy with some advertising campaign in Spain for all he knows. Ryuk had to fly away with her, so for now Light is blissfully remained all by himself.

He sighs contentedly and turns off the lamp on the night table. Nothing to be worried about, yes. He will close his eyes and he's not going to see a thing until he reopens them in the morning.

The soporific quickly takes its effect on him, and soon Light catches himself on losing train of thoughts and flaking out into light slumber. Well, he won't resist the sleep this time...

* * *

_"Have you ever watched the rose wither?.. First it loses its color, then its petals tear off and fall. Then, the leaves dry out. They won't ever be green again, and slowly, step by step life slips away from them. That's how it is. Roses remind me of Autumn in someway – it kills every living thing just as cynically, making you admire the process. But that's not the point. Faded roses smell too, not like the fresh ones. They smell bitter, with a tint of sweetness, a bit spicy. I've always thought that it's the smell of the Death itself." _

_ Your voice is low, just above whisper while saying this. "I don't like roses very much." _

_ The rose you hold between the tips of your fingers is vibrant red, fresh and beautiful. You talk nonsense, but I don't really care. Your voice lulls me, so I lie down and close my eyes, listening to you._

_ "You never told me you hate roses. I shall make a point not to buy them for you." I say and tug at the sleeve of your shirt. "Come here."_

_ You choose not to reply and proceed to lie down on the floor, where I scoop you in my arms, burying my face in the crook of your neck. _

_ "You smell like that rose." I mutter, pressing my lips to the pulse I feel flutter beneath your skin._

_ "But shall I fade?"_

_ "Don't think about that. Death should be concerned with such problems. Not you."_

_ You stay silent for quite a while._

_ "I can't help but think... What will become of me when I'm dead? Shall I just vanish?.. I am not a good person, not a saint. What will happen to my soul when I'll close my eyes for the last time?"_

_ "You don't have a soul. You are the soul. You just have a body. Nothing bad can happen to you."_

_ "Still... Don't you ever think yoursel-" Your sentence hangs in the air unfinished as I lift my head to press my lips against yours. _

_ "You think too much about the things you shouldn't be bothered with." I tell you slowly as we part with a soft wet sound. _

_ "There's no one to blame for that," you say with a sad smile on your lips, and I have to hold you to my chest, just so I won't see that expression on your face again._

_ We lie on the floor of our living room, and I drift in and out of reality, slowly falling into the slumber, until you break the calm silence._

_ "Have you read 'The three musketeers'?" you sound genuinely curious, and I free you from my arms to prop myself on one elbow and look at you, intrigued._

_ "Yes. Why?" _

_ "Nothing. I just thought you remind me of Milady. She never loved anyone, because she wasn't capable of that. But she was beautiful. Many noticed her glory and fell for that. But none of them knew just what was going on there, inside of her. They didn't know what they loved. And I too don't know how I've gotten caught in Milady's net."_

_ "Well, that's quite unexpected. And I can't really agree with you. You should know that I'm actually capable of love. I'd say there are no fictional characters I can be related to."_

_ "On the second thought you're probably right – you have little in common with Milady. You're more like Raskolnikov. Such a funny and ambiguous person. A naive judge. A kind-hearted megalomaniac. A tragic hero, that stan-"_

_ "Okay, okay I get it. No need for analysis," I grunt, feeling at least a bit offended. "And are you basically trying to call me the murderer of helpless old ladies?" _

_ "Perhaps. Who knows?" you smile at me and I laugh, ruffling your hair._

_ "I honestly don't know how I still manage to put up with your bluntness. Well, if I'm Raskolnikov, then you should be... mmm... Jane Air, maybe? Or Sherlock Holmes, I don't know. Who do you like the best?"_

_ "Neither."_

_ "Really now? That's not fair."_

_ "I think I can relate myself to Friday, though." You say with such a straight face that it makes me wonder if you are actually joking or not._

_ "Are we talking about Defoe's savage?" I ask, feeling rather unsure._

_ "Correct."_

_ I look you in the eyes, trying to find there traces of laughter, but you look back at me with an utmost serious expression._

_ "Alright, whatever you say, Friday." _

_ Next moment I tackle you on the floor, tickling and trying to pin you underneath me to no avail, while you roll onto your sides, gasping and stretching your arms to poke at my ribs in return. We end up in a heap, limbs tangled and breath heavy, still laughing. You lie on top of me, so I can feel your warm breath fan my skin, and the wild strands of your hair tickle my cheek. I wrap my arms around you tightly, almost crushing you in the embrace. And, surprisingly enough, your arms come around my neck, hugging me with an equal strength. _

_ There's a stray lock of hair on your face, which I draw aside before caressing the skin of your cheek and kissing it lightly. The way your skin feels like under my lips – soft and white like a milk - it never ceases to amaze me. I'm constantly drawn to touch it and test it by feel. _

_ I trail feather-light kisses down your face to the corner of your mouth, where you catch my lips in between yours. Your lips are soft and dry, and I can feel the roughness of thin skin there when you smile in the kiss. I trail my tongue across your upper lip and nibble at it, coercing you to open your mouth and allow a deeper kiss. _

_ Wet, warm and slippery, our tongues play with each other, while hands slide down the bodies, gentle and loving._

_ Gasps and quiet murmurs mix in my ears. I try to make out what you're telling me but everything feels like a blur. Your skin under my fingertips is rough and unnaturally firm. The kiss starts to suffocate me, it's too hot, and I feel you're choking me with it, smothering and pressing me down with your weight. It feels wrong, and I try to push you away. I grab your shoulders and shove your body off of mine with such ease, as if you weight nothing. I rush to sit up and..._

* * *

The dream... Again.

Through the crack of his eyelids Light sees plain white ceiling. The plaster is cracked and appears rather old. It definitely has nothing in common with the ceiling in his brand new apartment. Maybe the roof gave a leak and it has ruined the ceiling in the bedroom... But if so, where are the wet spots?

He turns his head to the side and winces in pain. If he didn't know better, he'd think that the terrible headache he suffers from, is a symptom of an awful hangover.

But that is inconceivable, Light knows the last time he drank was a week ago, right before Misa's departure, when she forced him to have a dinner by candlelight with her, and he had couple of glasses of wine.

Still, that doesn't explain the reason of such a strong headache. Now that he is more awake, he feels his body's gone numb, and the feeling is likely to be described as thousands of invisible ants crawl under his skin and muscles. How annoying.

Light decides to stay in bed for a little while, waiting for the pain to subside, so that he can properly walk to the bathroom and take pills. This headache can possibly be the result of excessive amount of his soporifics; he read about such side effects in the instruction. Anyway, he's ought to get up soon - judging by the brightness of the room, it's already morning, and this means he needs to make proper preparations before the task force arrives.

Light sighs and then inhales deeply. His eyes open wide suddenly, and Light can almost feel his heart beating against the cage of his ribs. The smell. It is not familiar. It doesn't smell like his bedroom, it doesn't have a tint of his and Misa's perfumes, the sheets doesn't smell of detergent, and the air around painfully reminds him of that in a hospital.

The young man sits up abruptly and looks around, frantically taking in the surroundings. No. No. No. He lays on a plain cot with white cotton sheets on it, an IV and heart monitor stand by the left side of his bed. The ward is small but clean, he can see benches of some tree rocking slightly outside through the small window on the opposite wall.

Light feels nauseous. The bile rises in his throat, and he can't make out whether it because of his abrupt movements, or because of the situation he's found himself in. Keen smell of medicines and chloride makes it even harder for him to struggle with the need to throw up, and he feels his headache intensify in hundreds. The pressure in his temples and itching feeling in his throat, Light forces himself to stand up and grasps a dropping basin's trunk to steady himself. He needs to get out. How did he even end up here? How long has it been?

Light makes it to the door and suddenly halts in his unsteady steps. What if everyone knows that he is Kira? What if they found out the truth and now, when he's much unable to do anything, they'll get rid of him? Maybe his disgustingly sick state is the effect of some drug they induced him with?

He looks down at his trembling hands and notices no watch encircling his wrist. He doesn't even have a piece of death note to help him with this situation. Fuck.

He wonders briefly if Misa's still alive and if she made all the job for him, ridding off of the task force members. Light feels paranoid, wishing for everyone he knew dead, with no one there to know him. He needs to calm down. It's possible they haven't yet found out the truth about Light. They have no evidences, he gave both notebooks to Misa, leaving only some sheets for himself hidden in a place hardly anyone can find. That's right, the only death note they have is his very first one, which he willingly sacrificed to clean himself off of the suspicions. Now the only thing that matters is the period of time he spent being unconscious.

Light rubs his chin, checking the bristle. Coarse hair are rather long and untidy, feeling gross and wiry under his fingers. So, it's approximately been a week. This fact placates him a bit, he's had everything arranged in case of the unforeseen circumstances, so that the deaths would have occured even when he was not around.

Light spends few moments reanalyzing these thoughts, and then slowly steps back from the door, retreating to the cot. Just as he covers himself with a light blanket, there is a knock on his ward's door and then it opens, presenting a man in his fifties, dressed in doctor's smock. Before Light looks into his eyes, he notices pig-tails of blond hair bouncing behind the doctor's back, and hears a whiny voice:

"Futada-san, are you sure he's gonna be ok?"

* * *

Saegusa Futada stands beside Light's bed, looking down at the young man with patient and calm eyes. The doctor didn't allow Misa to come into the ward until the needed procedures' been done, so there's only him and Light in the small room.

Doctor's smock is clean and perfectly ironed, his grayish hair soft and a bit disheveled, but that's probably its normal state. Before questioning Light on anything, he measures young man's blood pressure, checks his pupils, writes something into his note, and only then finally settles on a chair beside Light's cot.

He asks something about the way Light feels, something about headaches and depressions. Question comes after question, doctor talks to Light in such a soft tone, as if he didn't really expect the young man to come back to his senses. It confuses and angers Light a bit, but he replies obediently, trying to appear as healthy as possible in his current state.

Yes, I've been experiencing periods of strong headache for the past few months. No, I don't feel depressed. No, I didn't suffer any psychological trauma in my childhood or recently. Yes, I do have troubled sleep.

"Yagami-san, have you been taking soporifics?" doctor peers at Light thoughtfully above the rim of his glasses.

"Yes."

"Was it a prescribed measure?"

Light hesitates with his answer just for a moment. The truth is, he got his soporifics by charming and gradually persuading the young pharmacist girl to sell him those meds. And in result he got strong, prescription only drugs that guaranteed fast result.

"No," he admits slowly, "it wasn't. I found those pills in my medicine chest, they were the only sleep inducing meds I had at the moment."

Doctor Futada hums and asks him the next question:

"Did you take that soporific on a daily basis?"

"Yes."

"Your fiancée said the drug you were taking was Ativan. Is that right?"

"It is."

"How many pills did you consume usually?"

"One or two. That was enough for most of the occasions."

"Does your answer mean there were times you took even more of them?" doctor looks at him, slightly shocked.

"When I couldn't fall asleep after taking a pill, I usually took one or two more."

"Those were risky actions. Ativan is a very strong soporific."

"I guess."

"For how long have you been taking the drug?"

"About two weeks."

"Do you remember the last time you took the pills?"

"It was June 3rd."

"How many pills did you have then?"

"Three."

"Yagami-san, did you want to commit a suicide?"

Light stares at Futada, feeling confusion and indignation whirl somewhere deep inside his mind. Suicide? Him? Is it a stupid joke?

"Does the desire to sleep equal suicidal intentions?" he retorts in a calm voice, looking doctor right in the eyes.

"No, of course not. You see, Ativan is basically a narcotic drug. It has quite a list of side effects, which includes habit-formation, depression and suicidal thoughts. I want to know exactly what you were feeling during the period you used the soporific."

Light stays silent for a moment, pondering over how much information exactly he should tell this Futada man.

"Please, Yagami-san. We need to know about your psychological condition."

"I feel perfectly fine," Light says in a quiet voice, looking at his own entwined fingers on a soft blanket. "I don't suffer a depression, and I've never had a thought of killing myself. The only trouble I had was the sleep, so the soporific was a logical solution to my problem. I didn't know it could cause such a negative effect on me, there was no instruction or reference pamphlet in the box with Ativan."

A lie. He did read about the side effects and general problems Ativan was causing. But the doctor doesn't need to know about that. Light wants to get out of here and get back to the investigation, he can't afford wasting his time in this damn hospital, letting doctors find a solution to his non-existent psychological problems.

"Hmmm..." Futada-san smoothes his mustaches and appeals to Light once again. "Yagami-san, do you know you've spent a week being unconscious? Your state appeared to be much as coma, but all of your vital functions were fine, just lower in indications than that of a healthy man. Right now it seems as though you were merely asleep for a whole week. We had our suspicions and were afraid that you fell into the lethargic sleep."

So he was right. But how the hell did he manage to sleep for seven days straight? And not to just sleep, but have some dope dreams? It's plain pathetic, he'd prefer nightmares better than those half-assed romantic visions, starring no other than L and himself.

"A _week_?" he speaks aloud, sounding surprised and disbelieving. Light holds a pause, rubbing his temples in a distressed manner. "I can't comprehend it... How is it even possible at all? Why? Do you think it's because of the soporific?"

"We don't know. The usage of drugs might have resulted in your long sleep, but we can't assert it just yet. There's never been such a case in the history of our hospital, and we want to investigate it further. In other words, we would like to watch you and study your sleep pattern to learn more, and possibly prevent the recurrence of this... incident."

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that your request can not be possibly implemented," Light shakes his head slowly, "I have a serious work and I can't afford spending time here."

"It's the matter of your health, Yagami-san. But if you refuse us watching you..." doctor shrugs and shakes his head. "We can't keep you here by force, but nonetheless your relatives insist upon us to take care of your health for at least one more week. And, dare I say, there is a perfect sense in their way of thinking."

"Futada-san, I'm sorry to say that, but I'm sure my relatives are wrong in their judgment. I am a healthy man, and this accident was due to my rash and ignorant actions. There is a very low possibility of something like that happening again."

"You can't possibly be sure with the unknown nature of your disorder," as doctor speaks, a concerned frown makes itself appear on his face. "And I can't tell that I understand your desire to be away from our care. In any case, Yagami-san, you should stay here for at least couple of days before we're sure you are indeed fine."

"Yes, I've been expecting this."

"Good." Doctor smiles curtly at him and asks a new question, "Is there anything troubling you right now? Maybe there is something you'd like?"

"Yes," Light replies, smiling back at Saegusa, "I'm hungry. And I'd very much like to shave right now."

* * *

A/N: I don't know a thing about Ativan. It's true that it's a prescribed only drug and does have side effects, but there's nothing more I know about it. Oh, and I don't own Ativan TM. Just like I don't own fictional characters that were listed above. And thank you for reading :)


	6. Ch6 Fear

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

* * *

A/N: Thank you, guys for reading the story. It makes me happy to know that some of you like the stuff I write. And thank you, Carla, for leaving a wonderful review, it made me go 'awww' in front of my computer :D But really, I appreciate it dearly.

Well, off with the rambling, on with the story. This time chapter is quite short and I got only one excuse, that you probably won't care about. I promise that this piece will most probably be the shortest one in whole story.

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**Ch. 6 Fear**

It's an hour later when Light is freshly bathed and shaved, half-laying on the cot in his ward again, eating Misa's bento that rest on a lap table in front of him. Misa sits on the chair beside his bed, the same that doctor's been sitting on not long ago. She looks bad. It is obvious she's spent much time crying and now her eyes and nose are puffed and red. She sobs quietly still, not letting another sound escape her lips, while she watches Light eat the meal she made for him. Ryuk, who followed Misa here, stands behind her, looking down at Light with a broad leer that bares his fangs.

"How... how do you feel?" Misa finally asks, slightly inclining towards, her lithe fingers clenched in fists on her laps.

"I'm fine," is Light's curt reply. He takes a sip of mineral water and places the glass back on a table with a soft tap. Misa nods and looks at him expectantly, wanting Light to say anything more. He casts Misa a glance and suddenly his lips form gentle smile. "You worried about me, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," she looks Light into the eyes and he can tell she's relieved to see him like this – talking and smiling.

"You shouldn't have. But I appreciate it greatly," he smiles once again and reaches out with his hand, touching Misa's. For a second she seems startled, but quickly the surprise on her face changes into soft expression. Light holds her hand and Misa entwines her fingers with his, clutching them tightly. Light really loves her, he does. Misa's absolutely sure.

"How have you been?" Light asks her suddenly, smiling gently. She looks at the sensual curve of Light's lips, blinking several times before redirecting her stare to Light's eyes. His gaze is patient and cold, not in a bit matching his smile.

"Um... Not so good," she begins and breaks off, when she notices slight irritation and threat flashing in the caramel colored irises of her lover.

"Really? Why? Were there any troubles? Did my co-workers bother you?" Light asks in a cooing tone that hides the real meaning of his question.

"No!" Misa replies briefly, finally catching onto the gist of Light's questions. "Everything there is fine, I even managed to do some of your work, not much really..."

"It's wonderful, Misa. I'm so lucky to have you." he smiles once again. No one will get suspicious, killings rate didn't decrease dramatically with his sickness.

"Has the doctor talked to you already?" Light asks, only to keep up the dialogue and get some more information of the happenings that occurred while he was out of reality.

"Y-Yes," she replies, looking at Light round-eyed. "Futada-san had a talk with me and your father, too."

"Did he ask about the pills?"

"That was the first thing he questioned... He asked if I knew the reasons of your state, but I really didn't know for sure how everything happened that day... You remember, I was still in Spain back then... They called and said that you were in coma and I..." Misa breaks her incoherent story with a sob, shaking her head and keeping face downcast.

Light tightens his grip on her hand reassuringly, wishing for Misa to stop whining and tell him how the hell he ended up in a hospital.

"I'm sorry, Raito, it's just that I'm still so disoriented and stressed out..."

"It's okay, Misa. Just tell me what the doctor talked to you about."

"Well... Futada-san showed me the pills and asked if I knew something about them. He said that your father had found you in the bedroom, unconscious, and when you didn't come to senses the next day, Yagami-san called the ambulance... They found some pills in our bathroom, but your father didn't know about them. When I arrived here, doctor showed those meds to me and..."

"What did you tell him?"

"I said I knew nothing of them."

Light curses under his breath and Misa grips his hand tighter, inclining closer to him. Her eyes wide, when she hurriedly speaks further:

"No, Raito, listen to me! Misa had said that, but afterwards Misa thought that Raito, probably, wouldn't want the doctor to know that he owned the pills. So the next day I came to Futada-san and told him those pills were mine and that my doctor had them prescribed to me a year ago! Misa is smart!"

Light looks at her, surprised; that was indeed prudent of Misa to make up such an excuse for Futada. He smiles at her, freeing his hand of her grip and lifting it up to gently stroke at Misa's cheek.

"Thank you, Misa. You've done me a favor," Light presses her head down slightly and Misa bents obediently, kissing him on the lips.

"I love you," she whispers, breaking the kiss and laying her head down onto Light's chest, where he wraps one hand over her shoulders.

"I love you too."

Light hears an amused snort that comes from Ryuk, and sees the shinigami's lips twisted in sardonic smile.

"Your parents wanted to visit you today," Misa says, freeing herself from Light's embrace. "They will come here soon."

He nods and Misa hesitates for a second before placing a feather-light kiss on Light's lips.

"I should go... Futada-san said you have to rest. He thinks your sickness is due to stress and overtime work."

"I've been asleep for a week, and I suppose that's more than enough of a rest," he smiles, objecting though without much spirit.

"Please, rest some more. Misa wants her Raito healthy and back home," she grins at him and waves a goodbye before walking out the door.

Ryuk follows her with his eyes and turns his head to look at Light once again, grinning widely.

"Aren't you going with her?" the young man asks, lifting the lap table from its place above his stomach and placing it on the floor, all the time not sparing a glance at the shinigami.

"What's with your manners?" Ryuk grumbles, amiss joyfully. "Haven't you missed me, Raito?"

"You're in a good mood," Light speaks in a shushed voice, arching a brow and studying the death god's face.

"Why wouldn't I be? You're sick, it is fun. Actually, when you were laying here listless under the dropper thing, it was even more fun. It was the first time I've ever seen you that weak and helpless."

"Are you trying to say you want me dead? Reasoning the death is the funniest ever occurrence that can possibly happen to me, as you see it." Light snorts, disgusted.

"Nah," Ryuk takes a sit on the floor and stares up at the young man. "Even if your death will indeed turn out to be the most amusing thing, it will still mean no more fun for me. And I'm not ready for a comeback to my realm, not yet."

"Of course you're not," Light replies in exasperated whisper, laying down onto the bed and staring vacantly at the ceiling. Boring. A minute passes like this when Ryuk sighs and creeps closer to Light.

"Hey, Raito. What really happened to you, huh?" the shinigami asks, barely containing curiosity in his voice.

"How would I know?" Light answers in a rather peeved manner. "But I think _you're_ much more aware of my current situation than myself."

"I only know that you've been taking hell lotta pills and finally fell into coma."

"That's not true," Light sighs, placing a hand over his forehead. "That night I took the usual amount of pills, but after that I just flaked out for seven days, sleeping. This is really strange, Ryuk. I'm trying to figure out how could this possibly have happened, but I see no feasible reasons."

"Because of the pills, maybe? Told you that thing won't work," Ryuk suggests, seemingly enjoying the conversation.

"Yes, indeed, the soporific is the first thing that comes to mind. The catch is, I'm almost hundred precent positive that I shouldn't blame the pills."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I was using soporifics for two weeks. And during that period of time I got to know the effects it had on me, I knew my dose. I couldn't make a mistake that night, it was impossible."

"So you're saying it's not your meds that are at fault, but something else?" Ryuk cocks his head to the side, looking confused.

"Yes," Light frowns, looking away from the shinigami.

"And what do you think the real reason is?" the death god asks once again.

"I don't know it yet. And actually, I got an awful headache right now, Ryuk," Light mumbles irritably, closing his eyes.

The shinigami stays silent for just a few minutes before saying in an innocent manner:

"By the way, Raito, do ya still have bad dreams? Maybe they are the reason?"

"No," Light responds under his breath. "I don't have any dreams."

Ryuk cackles gleefully and stretches his wings out.

"Well, if you say so. Gotta go, see ya. Don't sleep too much," the death god flies out of Light's ward, snickering by himself.

Damn that creature.

But it's not Ryuk that bothers him. It's his dreams. He certainly didn't expect that everything would turn out like it did. Weeks ago his nightmares seemed abnormally long, but when he woke up the clocks showed he spent only four-five hours sleeping. He could live through a whole day in a dream, but in reality mere hours passed.

Now it's gotten much worse. Light knows that this time a mere hour passed in his dream, but it was the whole week that passed here, in reality. What is the real reason of it? His distress and exhaustion? The pills? Or can it be that everything that happened to him was just a case of lethargy sleep?

Light doesn't know. He still feels tired and sick, even after such a long time spent in bed. His head still aches and he wants to fall asleep once again. But a vague fear gnaws at him, bit by bit eating him alive. What if _this_ repeats once again? What if the next time his dream will last for a whole month?

It scares him because _this_ is something Light's not used to deal with. He can't trick his own brain or whatever it is, that makes him have this kind of dreams.

What should he do? He can't fight the need to sleep forever, his brain is likely to shut down in five days in case he tries not sleeping at all.

For the first time in his life Light feels horrified to such extent. It's not someone who wants to kill him, it's his own brain that desires his extinguishment. And the most terrifying thing is that Light doesn't know how to stop all this without having his brain dead first.


	7. Ch7 Mother

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 7 Mother**

A/N: Just a small peek at Raito-kun's childhood days and his relationship with his mother. Quite irrelevant to the plot, so you might as well skip it.

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Sachiko Yagami sits at the edge of a cot on which her son lays, and gently strokes his hand, that lies limp on the sheets. Light looks exhausted. Frightened. Discontented. And she can tell from the little stress lines around his eyes, that Light is very angry. She studies her son's face, noticing that even if Light's jaw and body movements seem to be relaxed and at ease, not tensing or betraying his emotional state in any way, she feels that there is something bothering him. Mother's heart won't lie, she knows it better than anyone. At least better than Soichiro does, that is for sure.

Mere five minutes ago her husband stormed into the ward, unable to suppress his nervous anxiousness. He didn't ask about their son's health, didn't care to conceal his anger and try and postpone the talk with him for the time being. Soichiro stomped in circles right in front of Light's bed, his hands behind his back. He talked to their son in a cold, threatening tone in the beginning of his speech, but ended up almost shouting last words. He said something about smoking and Light's want to bring their whole family to its grave. It was painful to hear.

Sachiko doesn't remember a single time in her whole family-life with Soichiro, when he shouted at Light in such rude manner. Even when it was necessary.

An unbidden memory flashes before her eyes. She often thinks that she or Soichiro should have scolded Light for what he did that day, but back then she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

It happened when Light was eight year old, he only started going to a new school, but was already long way ahead of the children in his class. One day he had to gather some of his classmates in their house in order to finish the work for the summer vacation group project. The task was pretty much facile, kids had to make an entomological collection of insects of whatever type they preferred. For the whole two months each boy in the team tried his best to find the most beautiful butterfly (the insect their choice fell upon) and finally, just two days from the new school year, they gathered back together to combine their works.

Sachiko remembers that every boy in the group brought their piece with them, holding the containers carefully in their small hands. Butterflies were indeed beautiful, perhaps it was the only insect that one could admire, not feeling disgusted. Light made a right a choice when deciding on a subject of their group work. But she knew the real reason her son had insisted upon choosing the butterflies was that he'd already had his own collection of them, being fascinated with those insects for a while. His fascination started one day when he managed to grab the butterfly on the wing, coming then to his mother to show it to her. Sadly, when Light caught the creature it crashed in his tiny fist and died right away, lying listless upon his palm. Sachiko didn't really understand Light's gaze then, he didn't seem upset, more like mesmerized and intrigued, watching the butterfly's wings leave shiny strokes on his fingers when he poked it. By the time Light was eight year old, he'd already had a whole number in his collection, Soichiro and Sachiko only encouraging their son's interest in biology. So there was really no surprise he'd induced his friends to make a project using those exact insects.

The boys were upstairs in Light's room, Sachiko was rather interested in their activity but she didn't want to interfere with her son's doings. More precisely, she was curious to see how Light would interact with the children of his age. The reason of her interest being that until his school days, Light was rather secluded and unwilling for socialization child. So she settled in the room next door to Light's and listened carefully. At first everything seemed to go just fine, children laughed and talked, excited with their Big Work. And just as she decided to go downstairs to the kitchen and bring some treats for the kids, she heard a curious high-pitched voice of one of the Light's classmates.

"Wow, Raito-kun, what a cool thing you have over here!"

"It's not mine, really. My grandfather gave it as a present for my dad when he was a boy, while grandpa himself received it from his father, and my dad presented it to me, when I first went to school."

Sachiko recognized the voice of her son and immediately guessed what was the thing the other boy was captivated with – an old dagger. It was not even a real dagger, something more like an oversized pocket knife. However it was useless - the blade was never meant to cut anything, and was brittle and long since blunt, and the only values the dagger had were its intricate design and the memory of Soichiro's forefathers.

"So this thing is old!" the boy exclaimed. "I like it so much, could you please give it to me as a present? Please?"

"What?" Light's tone of voice was a little bewildered. "No, I can't give it to you, Takashi-kun. Dad will get angry with me."

"Really? How sad..." Takashi muttered. "Could you ask him, though? Maybe he won't get angry if you ask him nicely."

"I'm sure he will refuse." there was a clear discontent in Light's tone now. "Why do you need it anyway?"

"Um... I like it? It will be fun to play with. What need do _you_ have in it, Raito-kun? You don't play with toys, otherwise you'd boast about it long ago."

"It's not a toy. I'm sorry, Takashi-kun, but I refuse to give the dagger to you."

"Okay..." the other boy's voice was hushed and offended.

"Now, let's get back to the project. Where do you think we should place this one, Kadzuki-kun?"

Sachiko walked away then, a little shocked with boy's insolence. It was parenting to blame, Takashi's mother must've been spending a little to no time, teaching her son proper manners. Good thing Light was always polite and well-mannered, it made her feel enormously proud.

"Sachiko, what are you doing?" her husband's voice came from behind her back and she turned around, holding a plate with pastries in hands. Soichiro stood there, smiling. He was in a good mood, finally spending time with his family on a weekend.

"I'm going to bring this to kids. They must've gotten hungry."

"I will do it."

He snatched the plate from her hands and went upstairs to Light's room. Out of pure curiosity Sachiko went there, too, to see how Light was doing in a company of his friends.

"Hello, boys! Look what I've got for you," her husband greeted children, and everyone rushed to him, snatching cookies from the plate and thanking him. Everyone, except for Light, who stayed bent over the broad sheet of paper they'd been working upon. He seemed to be not much interested in what the others were doing.

"Yagami-san!" one of her son's classmates brought Soichiro's attention to him. "Yagami-san!"

"Yes? What is it?" Light's father smiled at the little boy who looked up at him with shy eyes. From the tone of the voice, Sachiko recognized that it was that saucy boy.

"Um... My name is Takashi. I just wanted to say that you have a lovely house!"

"Why, thank you! What a proper gentleman." Soichiro gave a little laugh.

"Thank you for your hospitality!" Takashi continued, smiling all the while.

"Raito, you do know how to choose your friends," Sachiko's husband playfully addressed their son and smiled at Takashi. "Is there something you want, Takashi?"

"Well... yes. I saw a really beautiful dagger here, in Raito-kun's room, and I liked it so much! I thought that my elder brother would really be happy, if he had a dagger like that in his collection, so I asked Raito-kun to give it to me as a present. But he said that you will get angry with him..."

"Eh? Did he say so?"

"Yes! But if you really can't give it to me as a present, I'll tell my mom and she'll pay to you! It's just I'd really love to have this dagger!"

Soichiro laughed heartily and ruffed boy's hair.

"Well, Raito was right, I would have gotten angry, if he gave it to you without my permission. However, since you are such a nice boy, who wants to make his brother happy, I will give it to you as a present from our family to yours."

"Really?!" Takashi beamed, and at the same moment Light raised his head from the paper he'd been looking at. "Thank you so much, Yagami-san!"

"No, don't give it to him, father. I don't want him to have it."

"Raito, don't be rude. Of course I will give your friend this dagger, it has absolutely no value for us, all the boys in our family used it as a toy. You're not interested in toys, are you?"

"But my grandfather gave it you, and now, since you presented this dagger to me, it is mine. It's not a toy, it's a relic."

Light's voice was laced with hostility and he was looking defiantly at Takashi, who started to fidget, feeling uncomfortable.

"Son," Soichiro said in a warning tone, only to receive a displeased frown from Light. "What's wrong with you? You know just as well as I do, that this thing holds nothing for either you or me. I think you're already past the age when you're allowed to act so childish. You've never felt a need in anything, have you? And now you want to get avaricious over such nonsense?"

"I just don't want him to have. It's unjust to give it to him."

Soichiro frowned a little and walked over one of the cabinets in Light's room, taking the old dagger and holding it out for Takashi, all the while his son's eyes not leaving his face, watching his every move.

"Here you go, Takashi-kun. Please, take it, and tell your parents Sachiko and I would be glad to welcome them in our house."

"Father!" Light's voice sounded high and disbelieving.

"As for you, son, please come over here," Soichiro beckoned Light, and their son stood up, grudgingly walking over to his father.

Sachiko's husband left the room then, taking Light with him. She didn't know what they were talking about, but when Light re-entered the room, he looked calm and amiable again. She felt placated then, thinking that Light had understood the inanity of his sudden possessiveness.

Light's parents left his room, leaving kids to work on their task, Sachiko once again staying in the closest room, albeit this time with Soichiro to keep her company, though he dozed off to sleep soon. Fifteen minutes later most of the boys left Light's room, going downstairs to have a lunch their parents prepared for them.

"Look, Raito-kun, isn't it beautiful?" the boy, who stayed in the room with Light asked.

"It is indeed beautiful, Kadzuki-kun. Wait, isn't this Urania butterfly?"

"It is," the other's boy's voice was full of self-indulgence.

"But we don't have this type of butterflies in Japan. Did your parents buy it for you?"

"Yes! They ordered it from Europe and it costs a lot, but just look at it! We'll get the top marks with the help of this little buddy. I think we should place it in the middle."

"I agree with you. Let's place it."

"Okay! Oh, yikes! I don't know how to hold it. It feels gross. Ouch!"

"Careful! You might damage it, if you hold it this way. Let me help you."

"No, I want to do it myself, Raito-kun! My special butterfly's going to be our star and I want to do everything myself."

"Okay..."

"How should I place it?"

"Maybe you should open its wings wider? So the paper won't look empty."

"Yes, I think you're right, Raito-kun." Kadzuki said in authoritative tone.

A mere minute later Sachiko heard a wail of sorrow coming from her son's room.

"Gosh, Kadzuki, what have you done!"

"How would I know?! I held it perfectly in place and then its wing just tore off! Why didn't you help me, you should've seen it coming!"

Light sighed. "Actually, I offered you my help but you turned it down."

"Ah, I don't care! What should I do now?! Everyone will mock me and say stupid jokes! What should we do? It was so precious!" Kadzuki seemed to be at the verge of tears.

"It might worth a try to fix it back together with glue and needles."

"Okay then, you go!"

"Why me?" Light said in his genuinely surprised boyish voice. "Haven't you told me that your butterfly's going to be the star of our project? So take the responsibility and try and fix it yourself."

A rather long pause ensued Light's words, and then a grumble came from Kadzuki.

"I'll try then."

"Good. Then I'll go downstairs and have a lunch, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

After Light was gone, Sachiko heard the other boy mumble something under his breath and then Kadzuki's voice came again:

"Damn, I can't handle it. It's impossible!"

Kadzuki fell quiet, but then he spoke up again, obviously talking on the telephone.

"Yeah, mom, can you please order a new butterfly for me?... But I need it very much! Please, mom, please!... No, I can't wait for a whole week, our project is due in two days!... Okay. Yes. Goodbye."

There was a pause and then Light's voice was heard, sounding soft and placating. It seemed he got back into the room without other boy noticing him.

"How's it going, Kadzuki-kun?"

"Raito-kun, you're back already... Um... Not well. I tried my hardest to fix it, but ended up making a bigger mess."

Soft sobs were heard then, and Light's voice came again.

"Don't cry, Kadzuki-kun. You know... actually, I think I've got the exactly same butterfly in my collection. Do you want me to give it to you?"

"R-really?" the other boy stuttered. "Give it to me, please!"

"Of course. However..."

"Yes?"

"I need to hand it to you the way no one can notice, right? It will be embarrassing if they discover you did destroy your butterfly."

"Please, Raito-kun, please, I don't want them to find out!"

"I understand. That's why I'm telling you this. The problem is that I store my butterfly collection in a box that can be opened only with the dagger Takashi-kun took away. My father designed it so that the box opens without much physical effort when using the dagger, he wanted to be sure I would remember about this 'family relic'. That's why I didn't want Takashi-kun to take it, the dagger was my way to access the collection without father's actual help."

"What a bastard! Don't worry, Raito-kun, I'll get it back for us!" Kadzuki yelped.

"But..."

"Just watch, Raito-kun, I'll teach Takashi a lesson!"

The next thing Sachiko knew was that Kadzuki stormed off Light's room, walking angrily towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Takashi! Get here, you prick!"

"What do you want, Kadzuki-kun?" the surprised voice of the other boy came.

Soichiro stirred in bed, waking up from his dozing due to the loud voices coming downstairs. Light's parents hurried there, their son walking behind them, a worried look on his face. They found the boys in the kitchen, Kadzuki was pointing an accusing finger at Takashi, who was clearly taken aback.

"You took the dagger, though Raito-kun was against it! How dare you?!"

"But Yagami-san said it was okay! He gave it to me himself!"

"But Raito-kun meant to give it to me!"

"What?! Why would he give it to you?"

"It doesn't matter! Just give the dagger back! Gosh, how can you just fetch things that don't belong to you anyway?"

"But why do you shout at me?.. I'm not guilty of anything..."

"You are! Raito-kun said twice he didn't want you to have it, wasn't that enough?"

Two other boys looked at the pair, and then one of Light's classmates joined the conversation.

"Yes, Kadzuki-kun's right. You shouldn't have acted like you did, you're a guest here."

"Yeah... I agree with Kadzuki-kun and Takahiro-kun. You were impolite towards Raito-kun."

"You're too against me?" Takashi whispered in disbelief.

"Give the dagger back to Raito-kun, or I swear I will punch you!" Kadzuki howled desperately, grabbing Takashi by the collar of his shirt, while Soichiro hurried to part the boys.

Sachiko glanced at her son just in time to see Light taking the ill-starred dagger from a counter, holding it in his hands and then bending the aluminum blade, till it was half of its previous length. Six pairs of eyes were on Light now, he tossed the completely useless knife aside and said in a quiet voice:

"Please, stop it. There is no dagger now." he turned to face Kadzuki, who looked at him wide-eyed. "Don't worry, Kadzuki-kun, I'll give you something else."

Kadzuki nodded numbly, while Takashi's shoulders trembled, he was sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Raito-kun, I didn't know you meant to give that dagger to Kadzuki-kun..."

"No, it's me that ought to apologize. I should have told you..."

"I'm so sorry..." the boy cried while Light put a comforting arm over his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"It's okay, Takashi-kun. Let's just all go back to my room and try and finish our project."

Boys walked away, Light still holding the sobbing boy in his arms in effort to appease. For a second Sachiko saw a slightly smug smile, that flashed on Light's face before he put back his mask of empathy. And suddenly she knew just what kind of a child she's been raising.

She should have scolded him then, should have told him that what he did was not a right or good thing, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. What Light did that day seemed frighteningly clever for an eight year old, and she felt utterly fascinated with her own child.

_He's just a child now. It's terrifying to think what will become of him when he's an adult. Will he turn out to be a monster or will he use his mind for the good? _

She didn't know the answer back then, but swore to herself to try her best and raise a good man out of Light.

And now she sits beside him, holding his hand and looking at her son's face with an utmost love. Light did not become a monster. He's still a boy, still her son, frustrated, frightened and so tired.

"I think you should quit what you're doing, Raito..." Sachiko says quietly, still stroking Light's hand and not looking into his eyes.

"I'm sorry?" Light inquires, and she can feel his eyes on her. He didn't change much, still appearing confident and cool, the only difference she can sense is the atmosphere around her son, that grew even more uncomfortable and tense than it's ever been before.

"Your job. I don't even know what are you busy with, but please, Raito, stop it. Quit this, give yourself a rest, and then start something new."

"I told you I'm working with father."

"It's your father overworking you." she objects and lifts her gaze to meet Light's eyes.

Light notices that his mother's face changed - there are small thin wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Her cheeks are hollow, making her look even older, just like the grayish tendrils in her hair don't compliment her looks. She shouldn't look that old, he thinks, it's not like it's been fifteen years since he started living on his own.

"He's not, mother. I feel responsible. I can't leave this job, and I have no wish to ever quit it."

"I know you always work hard, it's your nature. You've always wanted more than any of those around you had. But it's not the reason to push yourself over the edge. I feel worried about you. Sometimes I get afraid that one day you won't be able to handle the pressure and end up broken."

Light stays silent, watching his mother's face. He wishes to be left alone, not being subjected to lectures and worries.

"I wish for your happiness, son. And what your father told you today was true, if you go on at this rate, you'll lead us all to the end."

"Father was being melodramatic. It's not like something's wrong with me or with what I'm doing." he protests despondently.

Sachiko observes her son and feels the warmth suddenly flood her heart. Light's expression now is so much alike Soichiro's when he's feeling obstinate. Their son looks very little like his parents, but he's sure got some of his father's mimics.

"Life is not like this..." she finally says, squeezing Light's fingers gently. "It's not about the honor, respect, money or quality. The only thing you should be worried about is your relationship with your loved ones. When they are happy – you feel happiness too. In the end, it's the relationship that matter."

Light still doesn't say a word, studying the duvet with calm gaze. Sachiko sighs and leans forward to hug her son. She feels his arms come around her gently in return. She straightens up then, pecking Light on the forehead and smoothing his hair with her palm. "You should marry Misa and have a child. I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

His mother sighs again and stands up.

"Do you want me to come tomorrow again, son?"

"It's fine. Misa promised to take care of me."

"Yes, you should spend more time with her."

Light watches her silently, and suddenly she wishes he looked more at life, like a little devil he used to be as a child. And, as if hearing her thoughts, Light's lips curl into a smile and he says:

"I'll come to visit family someday."

"That will be wonderful, dear."

Another awkward silence descends the room, and after a few moments Light breaks it once again:

"Goodbye then, mother."

"Goodbye."

She kisses him on the cheek the last time, and walks out of the ward.

When she's on the bus-ride back home, there's only one thought that dwells in her head, nagging and bitter: _I should have scolded him that day._

* * *

Thank you for reading.


	8. Ch8 Zero

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

A/N: Since the previous chapter was pointless, I decided to give next one quick. Please, enjoy :)

**Ch. 8 Zero**

Life in hospital is mundane. It's been three days already, and he's still here, walking through the brightly lit isles, watching patients, or laying in his ward, _sleeping_. Light suspects Futada-san to be at fault of his constant sleepiness. Normal human can't spend thirteen hours a day, every day, doing nothing but having dreams. Though, Light doesn't have dreams anymore, it's the same pitch black nothingness that appears before his eyes when he's out of consciousness, that was there when he used Ativan as salvation. Yes, the doctor must be at fault of Light's drowsiness, though Futada keeps saying it's Light's own conjectures. Not that he be believes it.

Aside from some blood tests and minor treatment they made on him, Light doesn't get much of medical help, he simply has no need in one. All of his test results indicate him as a perfectly healthy man. So why insist on keeping him here? Light feels irritated and curses silently to himself. That's something new, Light doesn't remember cussing this much earlier, but now every time he sees Futada or other doctors, or patients, or Misa, his mind keeps mocking their words, keeps making foul, dirty remarks. It's disgusting and wrong, he shouldn't feel anything towards these humans, be it sorrow or rage.

Two pointless days later he's finally at home. Doctors studied him for the whole twelve days and still revealed nothing. Light insisted, pressed on them until they finally released him, diagnosing his disorder as lethargic sleep.

Lethargy... Was it really the case? Quite possible, he'd say, for there is no much knowledge about the whole thing. Somehow, one can fall asleep and not wake up for days, weeks, months, even years. Doctors said his exhaustion and abnormal sleeping pattern was at fault for his long sleep, but... why? How do they know?

Light didn't tell Futada about the dream he had, though the doctor questioned if he was having dreams while he slept. Light's dreams are none of Futada's business, no one should know just what he was dreaming about while everyone deemed him half-dead.

That dream felt real, again, just as always when he dreams of L. But that particular dream was million times worse than any other he had before. Although everything felt wonderful there, although he loved L's dull eyes, cherished every moment and even felt light-headed and overwhelmed with happiness – it all feels very wrong now, when he's awake.

But it's okay, Light thinks. It's okay to have dreams and dream of the most inappropriate things, but _why_ L again? He couldn't dream of literally anyone but L. Light suddenly wishes that it was Matsuda, he dreamed about. Or Mogi. Or Aizawa. His own father, for god's sake, but not L. He shouldn't dwell on these thoughts, the more Light thinks of L, the higher chances of such dreams occurring again. He should just go on with his plan, take the death note in his hands and write down the names in neat rows. And maybe he should really take care of Misa someday. Maybe he can try and talk to her, once again persuade her into understanding of his motives. Somehow, Light feels as if he needs someone to understand.

* * *

Clocks' ticking is slow and regular. He leans back in his chair, not taking his eyes off the monitor. For whatever reason, letters and diagrams on the display blink and twist, making him squeeze his eyes shut before reopening them with a sigh passing through his lips. There's no point spending yet another hour working on the computer, he thinks. He's just finished the work on a case he was solving for three weeks, and there are leads to go on in a new case he found for himself, but… Light doesn't feel like tracing yet another criminal just to write his or her name down and let them leave this earth. Doesn't he make everything too easy for them? They don't have to suffer the consequences of their crimes and wrongdoings, they don't have to through the stages of guilt, they have nothing to fear anymore, have nothing to strive for. He eases their pain, doesn't he? The death note isn't that perfect, those who should suffer, get away easily with Light's help. It is still unjust, but who can grant that after one crime the culprit won't go for another? The chances of recurrence are too high and this fact is unacceptable. The world is better off without those people. He is making everything better for everyone.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Light stands and walks to the balcony door, opening it and stepping outside.

The night seems too bright with the abundance of twinkling lights coming everywhere - skyscrapers, broad roads, pavements and billboards, all brightly illuminated and colorful. Light takes the cigarette pack from the windowsill, where it's conveniently kept, and fishes out a cigarette, holding it in his fingers but not taking it between his lips just yet.

"Misa's asleep. And I'm bored." the shinigami's voice comes from the side and Ryuk makes himself appear beside Light, leaning onto the balcony railing idly.

Light arches a questioning brow at him, but doesn't say anything and proceeds with taking the cigarette into his mouth and lightning it up.

"Talk to me, Raito," Ryuk drones, creeping closer.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know?"

"Then stay quiet until you know something we can talk about."

The shinigami makes disgruntled noise and falls silent, but not for too long.

"It's been a week since you're out of the hospital. Do you still have the dreams?"

"Yes."

"The nightmares?" Ryuk's voice is somewhat excited and it makes Light cringe inwardly.

"No, not the nightmares."

He lies. He doesn't want Ryuk to know that he indeed still has the nightmares, and they even vary in happenings, which he doesn't remember after awakening. It's not like shinigami can help him anyway.

"Oy, Raito?"

"What is it?"

"Now when you're fine again... can you tell me about the nightmares you had?"

"Why do you want to know?" Light frowns and shots a disapproving glance at Ryuk.

"Um... It helps when you talk about your problems with someone?" Ryuk tries, not sounding convinced with his own words.

The young man is silent for a few seconds before he throws his head back and laughs.

"Really now, Ryuk?"

"I heard people saying so." the shinigami shrugs.

"Alright," Light places a cigarette butt into the nearby ashtray and drags out the second white stick from the pack. "I'll tell you, if it means we won't have this talk ever again."

"Deal. I won't talk about it unless you doze off for a week again."

A small scowl distorts Light's lips before he takes a drag at the cigarette and casts a sideways glance at the shinigami.

"Do you know what the dreams are, Ryuk? Have you ever had a dream?"

"Well, I know that humans see something when they sleep, and the things that they see with their eyes closed are called dreams."

"Correct. Basically, the dreams are just the product of our subconsciousness, nothing more. To put it simply, the feelings people don't let out, or the things that worry them throughout the day are being released during the sleep. Usually the dream has stages and parts, people, as you say 'see' different things with the progression of their sleep. Most people forget about ninety percent of the dreams they had by the next morning, it is normal." Light speaks calmly, gently flipping the ash from the cigarette. "However, the dreams that I had were something different. They were neither fugitive, nor fractional."

"What do you mean?" Ryuk asks, tilting his head to the side, nonplussed. "You perceived a dream as a whole thing? How do you know that you just didn't forget some parts of your dream, like all humans?"

"I don't know…" Light's voice is hushed; he moves his left hand to lean his forehead against the palm of his hand in a tired manner. "Something was just not right with those dreams, but then again, I frequently catch myself on a thought I take everything too seriously. Few bad dreams is not a reason to become alarmed, is it?"

Ryuk doesn't answer, looking at the young man with intense stare, shinigami's grin widening as it senses uncertainty behind Light's words.

"You said your dreams were rather memorable. And you also mentioned that your nightmares were mostly about that detective guy," he says casually. "Raito, did ya really dream about him every night?"

"I fairly doubt you will ever understand human mind, Ryuk. You say these words, and I know you're enjoying the fun I provide you with our little talk, but... it's not a joke for me. Do you have any idea how awful my dreams are? Do you know how long and disturbing they are?"

Light glares at him, the little crevices around his eyes show his anger. He throws the cigarette down from the balcony, not caring to damp it in the ashtray.

"Will you tell me, then? Just what do you see in these dreams of yours? What is so wrong with them?"

"Everything is! I fall asleep and then it's like I wake up there, standing alone in nothingness, waiting for something to happen for hours on end, until it finally comes. He... It creeps about me, whispering and screaming, laughing and crying, repeating same words over and over, pushing and smothering me. It feels like I've gone mad, it makes me go insane! I can't do anything there, I just stand, waiting for it to appear, not knowing what is really awaiting for me. It makes me say words I'd have never said, makes me do things I'd have never done. I can't defend myself, I can't talk with it the way I want, I have no self-control whatsoever, I can't even cope with my emotions there... It's such a humiliating experience, and I have to go through it almost every night, living in that dream like it's not a dream anymore, but reality!"

"Raito..."

Said young man turns around, startled, to see Misa standing at the threshold, clenching her tiny fist on her chest. She trembles.

"Why are you here?" Light asks, his voice hoarse, while Ryuk cackles beside him. Damn that creature. He should've known better than spilling his guts to the shinigami.

"You never told me about this..." blonde woman continues, as if she hasn't heard Light's question. Misa drops her head, the strands of fair hair flying with the wind. "Just... why?"

Light narrows his eyes, casting a quick glance at Ryuk. '_I see. You persuaded Ryuk to have this crap-talk with me, while eavesdropping on us all the time_'. Two morons. They tricked him in such a trivial way, that worked just because he didn't bother with understanding of the work of their little minds.

"Why what?" Light says in a cold tone. Can't she just leave him alone for a minute? Why bother barbing Ryuk and making the shinigami talk to him about the dreams?

"Why didn't you tell me?" she lifts her eyes at Light. She's not crying. She seemingly doesn't have any intention to.

"That's none of your business."

"Yes, it is. I'm your lover. I'm your accomplice. We're building the new world together. I'm bound to you as well as you're bound to me," she says, casting her eyes down for a moment, but looking back into Light's honey irises almost immediately. "And do you... do you really trust a shinigami more than you trust me?"

Light watches Misa, observing the way the tremors in her body grow, partly due to the slightly cold wind, but mostly because of her anger and frustration. Ryuk watches the scene, grinning madly all the time and letting out occasional cackles. Sick. So sick.

Misa still stares at him, waiting for his answer, but receiving only cold and slightly annoyed gaze.

"...why are you looking at me like that?" she asks, not blinking an eye under Light's stare. "What's... what's wrong?"

He doesn't want to talk to her. Light wants Misa to leave and go to sleep, go to a photo-shoot, fix her make-up, whatever, just so she wouldn't stand here, looking at him.

"What is wrong?!" she cries out loud suddenly, her voice giving a small squeal. The shaking in her limbs increases, and the tears well up in her eyes. "What am I doing wrong?! Why don't you share with me? What is going on with you, Raito! Please, please tell me, we'll work it out together, we'll fix everything!"

Her clear voice rings in his ears, Misa sobs now, standing pathetically in front of him. Her short coquette peignoir barely hiding the curves of her small body, seemingly mocking the situation with its wrong looks.

"Don't you love me?..." she whispers, coming closer to Light, leaning into his face. "Do you?" she clutches handful of his shirt and he can feel Misa's small fists hitting his chest weakly. "Say that you love me, say that you care for me, say it say it say it..."

Light lifts her chin and presses his lips to her mouth, sealing it with a forceful kiss, sloppy and disgusting with his tongue immersed deeply in that cavern. He squeezes her breast in the palm of his hand and stumbles with Misa inside the apartment, all the while not breaking the kiss. She starts making protesting noises in the back of her throat as she feels Light's kiss suffocating her. Still, he doesn't break the kiss, making her pant and breath in heavily that little of air remained in the corners of her mouth.

When Light finally removes himself from her, Misa feels dazed and light-headed. She thinks she's going to faint, but she doesn't have time to feel the anxiety, or process her own thoughts, as Light pushes her down on her knees. Misa knows what he wants her to do.

By the time Light tears her head off of him, she coughs and almost chokes on her own saliva. He is so rough this time, not giving Misa a second to recollect herself, and pushing her back on the floor, spreading her legs and slamming into her body.

It's horrible. She is not that aroused, and the harsh intrusion causes a stinging pain, making her cry with his violent thrusts.

"Stop it! It hurts, stop it!"

"What!"

Light's voice is tense and angry, he stops with his movements abruptly and Misa opens her teary eyes to look at his face above her.

His eyes are filled with venom as Light looks down at her, a clear disdain contorting his features. For a crazy second she's scared that he will hit her, or will resume his painful actions that feel more like rape.

"It hurts..."

She whispers, looking up at him, and then she feels Light sliding out, making a disgusted noise with his throat. He finishes on his own, using his hand, and Misa can't do anything but stare at him, while Light squints his eyes shut as he releases on her stomach.

He leaves then, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang. There is a tinkling of the keys and some kind of rustling she hears downstairs, and then Light walks out, leaving her in that apartment.

The floor is cold and feels like stone under her back. Misa lays, splayed, and cries silently, choking on tears and muffled sobs.

"I love you..." she lets out a strangled moan as she curls her body into a ball, shaking with the strength of her cry.

She is dirty, filthy and broken, and she knows she deserves the way Light treated her this time. He can't be wrong, can he? Misa just needs to work harder and then they will get married, and they will have a beautiful child, or two, and everything will be perfect. She just needs to work harder for Light and her to be happy.

She falls asleep there, on the floor in the investigation room, lulled with tears and soothing thoughts.

* * *

The next day Light doesn't return home. Misa gets woken up by his father gently shaking her by the shoulders, while the other members of team stand in semi-circle around them, looking everywhere but at her.

"Raito?" Misa asks in a sleepy voice, trying to get up from the floor.

"No," Soichiro replies softly, holding up his hand to help her get up. "He won't come here for some time."

"What?... Why?!"

She scrambles to her feet hurriedly, looking astonished.

"Raito says he still doesn't feel well, and he supposes that the work in a command affects his health in a bad way. He wants to try working alone, but we'll still have a connection with him." Soichiro looks less than enthusiastic about the prospect while explaining Light's absence to Misa. "I don't approve of the separation but... Anyway, Raito said it probably won't take longer than a week. He will return soon."

"Where did he go?.."

"We have no idea. He said he didn't want anyone to interrupt his temporal isolation."

"He must be staying in a hotel or something," Matsuda adds, looking at Misa sympathetically.

"I want to find him! I need to ap-" she breaks off abruptly. Light wouldn't want them to know about their small quarrel. "Uh... Oh my! What time is it? Misa has a meeting at eleven!"

"It's eight, Misa-Misa! You've got plenty of time," Matsuda says brightly, trying to cheer up the model.

"What are you saying, Matsu?! I got only... ummm... two hours to get ready! I can't stay!" she rushes to the door, waving a hand at men in the room.

"But it's actually th-"

"Have a nice day!"

The door closes behind Misa's back, and Soichiro sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingertips in a tired manner. He then hoists glasses back and views his coworkers seriously.

"The police reported five deaths occurring yesterday. Kira killed off those fraudsters that created financial pyramids in ten countries. I have no idea how he managed to track them down. The police forces of all the ten countries hunted them for almost a year."

"Maybe he's a policeman himself? Or some kind of a private investigator?" Aizawa assumes.

"He can be just a rich man who has enough time for this way of entertainment," Matsuda's voice holds a hint of jealousy.

"It might be that Kira is one of those people, who joined the pyramid," a robotic voice is being heard suddenly.

Everyone in the room turns to Light's computer that displays L's logo on the screen. It's actually creepy, Light managed to restore Ryuzaki's voice changer perfectly, and now the task force has to share a strange sense of deja-vu.

"If he were one of them, it would've given him the easier access for the information. I suggest we get the list of people, who were the members of the financial pyramid. Keep in mind that Kira, most probably, was the one who had a good reputation within the rascals. They must have trusted him enough to let him know the head of even one pyramid."

"Okay! Then I will get names of the defrauded." Matsuda proclaims eagerly.

"I imagine it will take us a while to check on all those people but... at least we have some lead to go."

The robotic voice does not hold any emotions, but from the pauses between the words it is clear that the owner of the voice is distressed.

"Don't worry, Raito-kun. We'll succeed, no matter how much time it will take." Mogi says reassuringly.

"Yes. We definitely will." A short pause follows the words. "I will work and check on further guesses. Please, inform me if you discover something about the case."

The screen goes black again, and the task force hurriedly take their respective seats to start the work.

* * *

A/N: So, here is where the things will start slowly changing, but the plotline won't get crystal clear for quite a while. Thank you for reading.


	9. Ch9 Bliss

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

A/N: The rating has changed to M. I'm sure you know what this means, but still I feel like I have to give you a warning. So, if boyxboy scenes disturb you, I suggest to skip that part. Or read it, I dunno. With that being said, please, enjoy.

* * *

**Ch. 9 Bliss**

The night is warm and pleasant when he walks down the pavement of a busy street. There's nobody talking to him, no one distracting him, no one interrupting his thoughts. It feels great, he almost forgot what it meant to be alone like this.

Light won't return to his apartment for some time, he has no slightest desire to see Ryuk or Misa. Misa. Screw that woman. She's obviously insane.

He shakes his head slightly, trying to get the annoying blonde out of his mind. The week-old incident still peeving him upon just thinking of it. Light doesn't need any kind of reminder of that night, it still flares vividly before his eyes every time he thinks of Misa. Her lips, ugly twisted with cries, screams and tears, the odiousness of the kisses, and most of all the fact she demanded his utter trust.

No. He shouldn't think about all this right now. Best to hurry up and return to his rented apartment.

Light grips the plastic grocery bag in his hand tighter, hastens his steps, and soon arrives to his destination point. The yard of a residential quarter is peacefully quiet and dull, bathing in the dim light of street lanterns at midnight in July. He passes by the parking lot and walks further, until he reaches large glass doors of a building he lives in for now.

"Good evening," Light says. The concierge lifts his gaze from the newspaper he reads and bows his head as a greeting.

"Good evening, sir."

Light smiles at him before rounding the corner, where he presses the button on an elevator panel.

This apartment complex is rather new, being built up five or four years ago. It's situated in one of the busy districts of the city, stacked closely between newly built business centers and other establishments. When leaving Misa seven days ago, Light didn't make decent preparations and had to stay the night in a hotel, searching for a more secluded and out-of-the-way places to live for some time. He didn't feel surprised to find that most of the lessors leased out the apartments that were either ridiculously overpriced or placed in the remote areas. However, he was lucky to find a woman who leased a small flat in downtown vicinity and needed someone to rent it soon. He paid her for month ahead and moved in the very next morning.

A small smile tugs at the corners of Light's lips as he remembers the sense of relief he felt upon learning he won't have to change hotels every three days in order for Misa not to find him. The elevator doors slide open before him, and he walks into the cabin, pressing the fifth floor button.

The door of his apartment is second to the left, with a small sign '505 Moriya' - the surname of his renter - on the wall next to it. Light fiddles with keys before he opens the door and walks in, takes off his shoes, locks the door behind him and heads to the kitchen.

The walls of his apartment are covered in grayish-white plaster, the floor is wooden, though the shade of the wood is unnatural, with it probably being just a colored plastic. The doors are white and have fluted matted glass in the center. There are little decorations in his temporal home, but it's fine with him. Light has all he needs here - a TV, a sofa, a bookcase and a desk in the living room, a double bed and a closet placed in the bedroom. There is also a kitchen area, in which he now unpacks his buyings. Light doesn't know the reason, but he's grown fond of this place. It's small but cosy, brightly lit during the day with the sunbeams reflecting off the white surfaces of the walls.

He sets the kettle on a stove and goes to the living room, turns on TV there and snatches his laptop from the desk. The old chair makes a small tired squeal when he sits down and so does the desk creaks when Light puts his elbows on it. This place would have been fine if not for the constant complains of the furniture.

He hushes the TV, so it won't distract him too much, and room fills with a quiet mumble of the news reporters and the annoying background music of ads. The young man sits in front of the laptop, peering intently in it, eyes quickly reading and processing the information he sees. Six thousand and fifty seven out of the two-hundred-thousand defrauded have been checked. What a nuisance, if they go on at this rate, all the fraudsters' victims will be examined and stricken out of the Kira-suspects' list in less than two weeks. He should soon come up with something new for them to investigate. It would've been so much more convenient to work alone, without someone there to report about the findings and suspicions.

For a few moments Light entertains with the idea of writing down the names of his co-workers in the death note, knowing, though, it won't be a wise move from him. The kettle in the kitchen starts to whistle impatiently and he rises from the chair, walking to where the whistle is coming from.

Coffee mug is searingly hot in his hands, so Light sets it down on the table, opting to open the window and watch the city beneath, while his beverage becomes reasonably warm. He didn't bother to turn on the lights when he returned here, and now the dark apartment suddenly seems depressing. The TV still mutters something he can't and doesn't want to hear, and it's the only sound there is, apart from the noise of cars somewhere in a distance and the coughs of the neighbors behind the wall. He flaps at the pockets of his slacks absentmindedly, searching for a pack of cigarettes. When Light finds what he's been searching for, a bright flicker of his lighter lights up his face for a few seconds, before everything becomes dark again.

He sucks at the cigarette, keeping smoke confined inside of his mouth for a few seconds before breathing it in. Light hates to admit it, but it's getting too damn lonely here at night. He lets out a bitter chuckle when thinking that even Ryuk's irksome company will be welcome. Is he already willing for the come-back? Not really. He doesn't mind being alone for all day. But at nights... When the sun sets down, his new home feels strangely isolated and suffocating with its lack of sounds. At night Light feels insanely bored once again.

It's always the same for him – window, smoke, caffeine (sometimes replaced with a whisky), click-clack of the keyboard, junk on the tv, mess in the bedroom and in his mind, his tired face in the mirror. But sometimes there's a needle-like feeling in his throat, and that's the worst. He feels lonely. Ridiculous, really. Loneliness... This useless feeling is covered in dust, it is gross and irritating, and at the same time it is placating. It sound stupid even in his head, when he thinks he doesn't want this little pain to fade. Light never wished to be happy. Happiness is a vaguely familiar concept for him. He doesn't need happiness. He needs everyone in the world to be happy instead. Self-sacrifice sounds great and so noble of a deed, doesn't it? All he ever wanted was for the world not to forget about him. To make everything better. To make everyone better, by helping people and making them a little kinder, a little wiser. Quite an immature wish, huh? Gosh... Everything's so messed in his head.

Light sighs quietly, flicking the cigarette out of the window. Maybe he should just go to sleep already. Maybe all of these forlorn thoughts come to his mind because of fatigue.

He closes the window and walks into the living room, turns off the TV and takes the laptop in his hands. Light then heads to the door at his right - the bedroom. He takes off his clothes and settles down on the bed, tugging off his socks when suddenly a phone rings in the corridor. He stops in his movements, paralyzed with this sudden clear sound. Short melodic trills repeat themselves for three more times before he reaches the phone and picks it up.

"Hello?"

"Onii-chan, are you sleeping?" comes the shushed voice of his sister.

Ah, yes. Sayu. She is the only one who got his new number. Light gave it to her, instructing to keep it a secret from their parents and god forbid tell Misa.

"No," he answers in a warm tone. "No, Sayu."

"Dad and mom are still awake, too, I'm kinda afraid they will hear me talking to you, and I know you're busy, so I will make it short."

"What is it?"

"Father's day is the next Sunday... Do you remember?"

"Yes." No, he doesn't. And he doesn't want to come at his parents' house just to present flowers to Soichiro.

"Sooo? What will we do? I have some money, but I saved them for the trip in Okinawa in August..." she mumbles, obviously concerned.

"Don't worry. I will send you money so you can buy something for dad."

"Yay! Thank you so much!" she cheers quietly, afraid that parents will overhear her. "Will you come, though? Mom said you promised to visit us someday."

"I hope I'll be able to make a visit, I don't know yet, Sayu."

"Come on, say you'll come! I kinda miss you. No, wait, I just thought of something better! What if I come to visit you instead? And you can give me money then."

"I don't know, Sayu. I'd like not to be distracted..." Light trails off upon hearing his sister's dismayed groan. "Okay, okay. You may come. How about Saturday?"

"Perfect, we can go out somewhere."

"No, I'm afraid that's not what I can do."

"Ahhh, well okay! We'll see about that!"

Light smiles at the pout in his sister's voice and presses the phone closer to his ear.

"I will e-mail my address to you. Call me on Saturday, alright?"

"Of course!" she's quiet for a few seconds before saying in a timid tone "Well then, goodnight...?"

"Goodnight," he answers and just before she hangs up, Light adds hurriedly. "Sayu!"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, onii-chan!" she replies and giggles. "Okay, now I really got to go, I hear father coming upstairs."

"Sleep tight. Bye."

"Bye! Don't forget to send me your address!"

She hangs up and Light stands in the darkened corridor of his apartment, listening to short beeps. He then hangs the phone, too, and heads back to the bedroom. It's only Monday night. He's got four more days before Sayu's visit.

After sending the e-mail with his address to his sister, Light closes the lid of his laptop and lies down in bed, covering himself with a blanket.

His coffee mug stands lukewarm and forgotten on the table, and there's a vague longing inside his chest. Maybe... maybe he will have a good dream tonight.

* * *

_I've never been good at drawing, you know that. You know, and yet here you want me to draw something for you. And... I can't really say 'no' to you. So here we are, in my favourite park. The glassy morning is transparent, with the rays of spring sun shining bright and clear down on earth. You're standing there, longing and yet scared to reach out with your arm and touch the sun-beams and this crystal air - one touch will ruin the beautiful illusion. I will draw you. You, in your red scarf that I love so much, you will stand out in this peaceful scenery, so different from everything and everyone. _

_ I make the first outlines, drafting the counters of your face and the trees behind you. It takes me too much time and you're getting impatient. You wait, though, until I take another pencil and start adding details to the picture. That's when you come to me, tugging me by the hand and leading me somewhere. _

_ We walk together down the alley, I whisper occasionally something insignificant and yet so important into your ear, and the words I say make you smile, or frown your brows, or even manage to make you angry. You don't like when I talk about you, but talking about you and with you is my obsession. I lean to your ear, tenderly stroking and kissing the skin, whispering and telling what you look like when you're asleep. You represent a touching sight, with the way your body curls into a tight ball and you wrap the blanket around you so that your hair is the only thing I can see. I love your hair. _

_ You fix the scarf around your neck with long white fingers and look me in the eyes. Actually, you hate scarfs, you say it feels as though they suffocate you. But this scarf, it used to be mine. You took it from me the day we had to separate our ways for quite a while. You said it was that small gesture that lovers usually make, something like memo. You unwrapped the scarf from my neck and donned it around yours, saying it smelled like me and my cigarettes. You hated cigarette reek too, but you wore it anyway. And I... I wouldn't forget about you without reminders, I knew it. But I sheared off a lock of your hair. Such a silly and old-fashioned gesture. It made you laugh._

_ We walk and walk further, until you stop and I look around. We stand at the lake shore, there is a boat rental two feet away and you look at it with curios eyes. I wonder if you want to take a ride, perhaps?.. _

_ A boat ride is a bad idea for you - the water scares you, since you nearly drowned when you were a child, - but it is brilliant for me. You are afraid, and that means I can put my arms around you without being chided and pushed away. I think I could embrace you forever. _

_ The water is calm and our boat rolls gently on the waves, soon making you close your eyes and snuggle into my arms. Suddenly I have the urge to lean in to you again and start whispering about the way you look when you sleep. But you already know that. But do you know why I love to embrace you so much? No, I think you don't. You can't know the feeling I have when I wrap my arms around your narrow body. I hug you tightly, and it feels like I will never have to lose you._

_ You open your eyes too soon and say we have to return home. It saddens me, you don't like wasting time like this - idly walking and talking nonsense. _

_ Our house greets us with small rooms and mess on the floor. I sigh and pick up your discarded snickers, placing them on a shoe-shelf. You walk straight to the bedroom, laying down on the bed there and gesturing for me to join you. And as soon as I'm lying beside you, trying to once again wrap you in my arms, you dodge and then push a book into my hands. _

_ "Read to me." _

_ You say in a serious tone, still nudging the book into my palms. I've read to you couple times before and I can't refuse you now, can I? _

_ And so I open the book and start reading out loud. You once said I had a nice voice. I read the lines, once again marveling at your choice of the book. The plot is simple and in-elaborate, though the humor is rather good. All in all, the book you wanted for me to read aloud is a pulp fiction, really. _

_ At first I was amazed to find out you liked that kind of books - judging by the way you took everything you did seriously, I expected you to prefer classic literature, or religious books, or law books. Anything, but this. I've come to understanding of your choice, though. You said life was too dark and gray to make it even worse with the serious and gloomy literature. _

_ I'm already half-way through the fourth page when I notice your stare. You don't say anything, you just watch me, head tilted to the side. I feel a bit nervous and start floundering under your intent stare. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and the more I mess up with words and syllables, the wider your smile grows. _

_ Two more minutes of this torture, and I flip the book away with a frustrated growl and push you down on the mattress, looming above your face, while you laugh softly at my reaction._

_ "You're playful today, hm?" I ask, trying but failing to look angry._

_ "Yes." There's still a smile playing at your lips and I look at it for a while before leaning in and placing small tender kiss at your soft lips._

_ "Good."_

_ You don't say anything and put your arms around my neck, nuzzling into my cheek and nibbling at my jawline. It feels good, but it's not exactly what I have in my mind. _

_ Your eyes widen when I rise to my knees and pull roughly at your shirt, making it roll upwards before tugging it off of your body completely. You look at me with curious eyes, head tilted to the side and finger pressed to your lips, as though this is the first time we're doing it, and you don't know what's going to come next. _

_ Hooking my fingers at the waistband of your jeans, I pull down both your pants and boxers - pieces of garment effortlessly slide off the slender hips. There's a moment of appreciation I have, looking down at your lithe, deceptively fragile body, before bending down to claim your lips again – this time biting them, before plunging into and caressing the welcoming, sweet-tasting mouth. Your moan stifles and gets lost somewhere midst our still desperately merged, moving mouths, when I brush my palm against the sensitive dips between your ribs. The places where I touch you feel hot under my fingers, your body radiating too much heat, making your skin almost searing to my touch._

_ "Raito..." you breath out when the kiss is broken. The way you say my name makes something itch deep inside of me, it feels like you've flared tiny sparkles in my chest, that sent short electric current down to the groin area. "Raito..."_

_ "There, there, just give me a second..." I mutter hurriedly, stripping of my own clothes and finally returning back to you, to kiss you fully on the lips and open your legs a little wider for me get closer. You wrap thin arms around my neck, pulling me deeper into the kiss, while I glide my palms down your body, touching and playing with hardened nipples, going down further to stroke and probe at the slightly wet opening. _

_ I feel you move your arm away from around my neck, and soon enough you poke at my shoulder, for me to end the kiss and look up. There you hold a tube, that dangles precariously, pinched between your fingertips - you must have gotten it from its storing place under the pillow, while I wasn't looking._

_ My lips stretch into smile when I kiss you softly once again and whisper a quiet "Thank you". And I don't really know what for I am thanking you: for handing the lube? For letting me do this to you? For just letting me be this close? Or for trusting me?_

_ Those questions remain unanswered, though, as I pour some of the viscous substance from the tube onto my fingers, and put them between your legs, massaging skin there first and then slowly pushing two fingers inside of you. And it's just in time that I latch at your lips, so I'm able to catch the sweet moan and drag you into another heated union of our lips and tongues. _

_ Slowly, I drive my fingers in and out of you, until I feel your hips sway forward, letting you impale yourself further. And it's quite soon that three, and then four fingers aren't enough, and I have you squirming and tossing upon white sheets helplessly. _

_ Your lips are red and swollen when I finally let go of the kiss and turn my attention to the milky expanse of your chest, marring it with bites and hickeys. I probably act over-possessive, but it makes me feel like the owner, who has no restrains and no bounds. __I should hate myself for ruining your beauty, but it makes you groan and fluster, and all of this is justified. _

_ Your nipples are pointed, and glister with my saliva when I put my mouth off of them and go further down, licking your rather hollow stomach, while letting my fingers wrap around the base of your straining flesh, pumping it urgently. These actions are enough to make you shut your eyes tightly, bite at your lower lip to prevent the scream from escaping your throat, and then you come over your belly and chest, grazing my face with semen, too. I pull my fingers out of you and smirk, wiping the drips of white fluid away from my cheek and licking them off. I glance down to see that you are still obviously hard._

_ "Raito..." you moan. It seems the desire has gotten best out of you, as you flip over on your belly and bend slowly, so that your butt sticks out. I feel my own flesh straining towards my stomach when you wiggle your hips to the sides._

_ "Spread your legs wider, baby." I hover above your bent figure, whispering this. "You've brought this upon yourself."_

_ You hesitate for just a moment before you open your legs a bit, and I growl, clutching at your buttocks and spreading them further, so that the pinkish opening comes to display. I lick at the ring of squeezing muscles, pushing the tip of my tongue inside. Your moans are low but loud, while you squirm around, clawing at the pillow with your fingers._

_ "Get inside, Raito," you manage to utter, flinching and breathing heavily. "I need you."_

_ I can't stand this any longer, too, so I smear the lube at myself with clumsy fingers, before hovering above you once again and finally plunging into your body to the hilt. _

_ You let out a low growl, and I can see you convulsing with shudders._

_ "Oh god..." I whisper in shaking voice, supporting myself on the arms and staying still for a few moments. It's when you whimper that I start thrusting, rough and fast, driving you further into mattress, making your body go farther upon the bed, so that the only thing that prevents your head from banging against the bedpost are your own pale palms, pressed flat against the wooden surface._

_ Your moans make me feel drunk, as though I've just had at least four glasses of heady whiskey, just like the heated tightness of your body blows up my mind, sweeping out every thought except for 'I need more'._

_ I hook my arm under your stomach and move us both down and to the side, so that I have to hold your leg, to keep it hanged in the air while I thrust. It's the change of an angle that allows me to finally hit your prostate and feel the tense clenching of the muscles around me._

_ Your moans turn into something unrecognizable, something between screams, laughter and sobs. I can't really see your face, that you have hidden in the pillow, but when you turn your head up to gasp for air, I discern the tears that roll down your reddened cheeks. You are crying._

_ It doesn't matter to me at the moment, as I let go of your leg to wrap my fingers around the throbbing flesh of your member instead. You curl into a ball almost immediately, making it easier for me to push further into your body, while I please you with my hand. _

_ Climax gets you with few more full-blown thrusts, making you clutch your fingers at your own knees tightly, and choke your scream in the pillow. The muscles inside of you clench, and I feel myself shudder with the force of this pleasure, that sends me flying into the white oblivion as well._

_ I fall heavily down onto the mattress, holding you possessively close to my chest and kissing and then biting your neck. You make a displeased moan, trying to get away from me, more precisely to make me get off of you. A low growl leaves my throat once again, as I turn your head to make you look at me, and then kiss you, hard. Perhaps, you are right, and I shouldn't be inside of your body any longer. I slide out of you, making you shut your eyes and groan in mix of pleasure and pain._

_ When you open your eyes to look at me, a timid smile makes its way at your lips, before you snuggle closer into my chest, tugging up the blanket and covering our bodies. _

_ You're going to sleep now, I know this. You always fall into slumber after sex, it wears you out greatly. I can understand that. What I can't understand, however, is the reason you cry while we make love. There was a time I thought that it was because you abstained from crying in other circumstances. When I noticed you cry the first time, I thought it was because of the pain. When you cried the next times we had sex, I dared to think that it was me just giving you so much pleasure, that you bursted into tears of joy. But now I know those are not the real reasons. So, why do you cry?.. I honestly can't stand this. _

_ I can give you all of me, but still it won't be enough. I want to do something for you, though you've never once asked me of anything. I can... buy flowers for you, but everyone does that. Maybe I should give you an apple? A juicy golden apple, like one that Aphrodite once longed for. But it won't start a discord, I promise. Or, maybe, I should present you with a feather grass? It grows in steppes and valleys, doesn't it? It smells of freedom. Maybe you will catch this smell and walk away from me to reunite with your freedom. _

_ Your soft snores are filling the bedroom and I look down at your sleeping face. You haven't slept for three days already, I'm glad you're able to sleep now. Those shadows under your eyes are not going away no matter how much you sleep, but I've become so fond of them. I love them. _

_ But do you know why I love you? I myself can't find a reason. Maybe there's no reason to love you. You're so elusive that I frequently doubt if you are real at all. And I can't really understand why you're still sticking with me. I frequently doubt you love me. But as long as I love you so much, nothing really matters._

_ And I close my eyes, pressing my body closer to yours, inhaling the scent of your so much loved hair, placing a small chaste kiss at the back of your head, and wrapping my hand around your curled body, so that I hug your knees. I wish the time to freeze and let us live in this moment forever. I really wish I could stop the ticking of the clocks..._

* * *

Bright beams of early morning sun sneak into the room through the tiny crevices of louvers, playing with his lashes and tickling his eyelids. Light mutters something unintelligible under his breath, snuggling deeper into the duvet and turning his head so it is buried into something warm and soft that he's holding in his arms. Lazy thoughts pass in his mind as he lies there, still half-asleep. There's a curt sincere smile on his lips as he wraps his arm tighter around something warm that is pressed to his chest.

"Ryuzaki..." he murmurs gently, as he tries to slid his leg in between of his lover's, only to find nothing he can entwine himself with. A little frown makes itself appear on Light's forehead and he props himself on one elbow, shaking his head and trying to dispel the drowsiness. "Ryuzaki, what's wr..."

He cuts himself off upon hearing an amused cackle of laughter, and simultaneously lets go of something he's been holding in his arms all the while. He looks down at the bed space beside him, examining the object he was clutching onto, with emotionless and empty stare. A cushion. A modern designed, thickly stuffed and oblong cushion. One of those type of cushions, that might be confused with a human body by someone either drunk or desperately craving for another being in their bed.

"Humans are really fun to watch!" a voice comes from behind his back. Ryuk lets out another raucous giggle before continuing in a half-mocking tone, "I've never thought you were capable of something like this, Raito. Ya know, I've been watching people for quite a while, but never before have I seen something this amusing. Who could have guessed humans could have... what do you call it... 'sex'? in their dreams!"

"Get out." Light says quietly, not looking at the shinigami, which almost jumps with excitement.

"Why? Aren't you interested how I managed to find you or why did I want to find you in the first place?"

"I believe I've been asleep for too long again. That's why you're here. Now leave me."

"Oh, but that's only half of the real reasoning. I was actually going to... "

"I. Said. LEAVE."

"But..."

"Get the fuck out!" Light yells, throwing the darn pillow at Ryuk. He knows just as well as Ryuk does, that he can't really hurt the shinigami, but nevertheless Ryuk ducks his head swiftly, glancing at Light in apprehension. The young man sits on his bed, breath heavy and fingers coiled into fists upon his knees. His hair disheveled and messy, the stance of his broad shoulders aggressive and predatory. The regrown bristle on Light's jaw gives him a strange look, as though he's not his twenty one year old self, but already in his thirties. Ryuk backs away slowly, holding his long arms before him in a cautious and placating manner, like a human would upon facing a rabid animal.

"Jeez, okay, okay. I'm leaving. Raito doesn't have to yell at the god of death," the shinigami mutters hurriedly before dissolving through the wall and leaving Light alone in his bedroom.

Light stays in his position on the bed for quite a while. His hands and shoulders are shaking with anger and humiliation. He wishes vehemently for Ryuk to reappear as a creature of flesh and blood only for Light to punch him repeatedly and strangle him till he hears a satisfying crack of bones in shinigami's throat, and that sick laughter dies with its owner. Light's anger is misplaced and he knows it, but it's so much more easier to vent his fury on someone who witnessed him in a humiliating situation, than face his problem and deal with it. Light is tired of facing problems that his dreams create. First it was fatigue, that soon turned into insomnia, which ended up with him taking loads of pills and blacking out for a whole week, and now it's _this_. Humiliation and confusion which caused him to become unreasonably spiteful. He doesn't even want to know how long he's been out of consciousness. Probably for two or three days. It doesn't bother him much now, for he's experiencing another kind of problem that makes everything even worse. He's aroused. He felt his member being hard from the time he regained his consciousness, cuddled with his pillow, and the conversation with Ryuk didn't help his problem a bit.

Light stares at the wall in front of him, taking in the painting that decorates it. He can tell it's the replica of Dali's 'Dream caused by the flight of a bee'. One second before awakening. He examines the painting carefully, observing and taking a note of every detail he sees. 'So unnatural' he thinks, looking at the woman's painted body. He can't understand Dali's creation and all that chaos on the painting: tigers, elephant, fish, pomegranates, ice and water, strange position of woman's body. Unnatural angles everywhere.

The more Light examines the picture, the more irritated he feels. What a ridiculous canvas, really. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't seem harmonized and beautiful. He scornfully notices that the portrayed female is inelegant and way too pudgy for his liking.

He continues to stare, thinking of all the drawbacks in this 'Dream' painting, trying so hard to will his erection down and not recall his own dream. No, anything to think of but the dream. He remembers it too vividly. The way L's skin felt under his fingers, soft and supple. His own hands roaming around that pale body, pinching and sucking the flesh into his mouth. The taste felt strange and new for Light, just as the gasps and moans were so unfamiliar for his ears.

He grips the locks of his hair trying to force unwelcome thoughts away. It's disgusting. Light feels dirty and ashamed for having such kind of dreams about his dead rival. It's sick to the core, twisted and perverted. He never felt attracted to L, but his mind chose to mock him with hideous and revolting fantasies. And the thing that makes Light despise himself the most, is that he actually gets very excited about the prospect of screwing L, even if it's only happening in his reveries. Reveries... Yes. It's just a fantasy. He's allowed to fancy this much, isn't he? Besides, it's been more than a week since he performed something of sexual nature.

He scrunches his eyes shut as he lets out a breathy moan, letting his hand travel under the fabric of his boxers, wrapping fingers around himself there, sliding them up and down. A shudder runs down his spine as he envisages L's naked body, splayed wantonly upon the bed for him.

It's sick. But, if L were here right now, Light would gladly force him on his knees and make him cry with want. It's sick. But the way L felt in his dream worths it.

Light hastens his ministrations, his breath heavy as he pants, reliving his dream.

"God... Oh god..." he murmurs over and over, syllables parted by groans.

A thought, unwelcome and awkward comes to his mind. _What if L knew what I'm doing right now?_ A real image of his nemesis' face, not embellished with his imagination, flares before Light's closed eyes. Eyes impassive and cold. Silent disdain in every feature of the face.

Light stops abruptly, still panting and wide-eyed. Did he... Did he just almost come, jerking off while imagining L? No. NO.

But L's face, that he's now able to recall clearly, something was wrong with his face. Light can swear he almost saw L's secretly smug expression in his mind's eyes.

It suddenly dawns on him just what felt off with the face that popped up in his imagination - L wouldn't be horrified to know what Light just did, he'd be his smug and conceited self, as he'd always been. He would be proud of himself for he'd know, he managed to make Light crave for something he'll never get, made him feel sinful and ashamed.

He sits on the bed, fingers still wrapped around his now softened member, eyes glazed and staring off nowhere, when a short chuckle leaves his throat. Light's lips stretch into a smile as another giggle passes through them. Soon, he's laughing whole heartedly, with his head thrown back and amused sparkles in the eyes. Ah, what a joy, L has managed to catch him in the act, while being dead!

"Alright, bastard, you won this time," Light announces to the empty bedroom enthusiastically, smile still playing at his lips. "You're indeed playful, Ryuzaki. Who'd have thought..."

Light smirks and shakes his head. Well, it seems his boring existence is going to come to its end. If L's able to reach him from beyond the grave, Light's guaranteed some entertainment.

He's still smiling while going through the morning routine and checking up the progress the task force made during his absence. He's been out for four days, just as he expected. His inbox is full of messages. Ten of them are from his father. Soichiro didn't write much, e-mails containing mainly statistics and reports. Though, the last message from his father is different. It reads: 'Where are you? It's been more than a week of your absence, and exactly three days since we last heard from you. As you can see we're stuck in our investigation yet again. Contact me as soon as you can. I am very displeased with you Raito.'

Light huffs dismissively while reading the message, and quickly types out a response, sipping at his coffee mug and looking over the left mail. Five messages from Matsuda, twenty seven from Misa. He quickly skims over Matsuda's messages (How are you feeling?; I wish for you to get better; Hey, I think we all need to go to bar someday soon; etc.) and replies to them accordingly. He decides not to bother reading what Misa sent him. From the abundance of emoji, exclamation marks and three dots in her messages, he knows it won't worth his time.

Instead, Light chooses to think over his next actions. The task force members are still obviously busy with checking and clearing out the names of those involved in 'Pyramid' case. They still haven't rose a suspicion on him, and the rare criminals still die of the heart attacks. Light oughts to thank Misa for that, she remains devoted, but who knows if she changes her mind? And what will happen to him if she quits his game? The chances are slim, but what if he falls asleep for couple of weeks and no criminal will die during that time? Light sighs and types out his proclamation of love to Misa, shaking his head irritably.

He needs to continue with his work on the 'Paparazzi' case he started simultaneously with the 'Pyramid' one. The case seemed not much of importance from the start. Apparently there was a perpetrator who stalked his victims for quite some time before killing them. He murdered seventeen civilians before aiming higher and striking off a Tokyo city mayor. He left no traces, no witnesses, no clues for his identity whatsoever. However, he didn't stop after killing the mayor, and Chinese ambassador fell as his next victim. After that particular murder, the case had become political and utmost urgent. The police gave the culprit a nickname – Paparazzi, for he always left private photos of victim on their body.

Four days ago, as Light progressed with his research, he managed to detect two next possible victims – either the premier of the state council of China, who was going to visit Japan in a week, or the deputy prime minister of Japan. For a little time Light strongly believed that Paparazzi only aimed at maiming the political structure of Japan.

But after more careful observation of Paparazzi's actions, he noticed obvious mistake in culprit's moves, such blatant and crude that Light could only marvel at his own and police's stupidity: the peace was the main target. Whatever Paparazzi did, it affected the established amity between China and Japan.

It became clear as day that Paparazzi was not a single person but an organized group, whose mission was the undermining of peace in Far East. All the previous murders Paparazzi had committed, all the photo-marks - it was all a trick to confuse the police. The whole case was a compound web of political intrigues, which eventually led Light to China. He already revealed the instigator there, but it turned out that the web was much wider than he initially thought, and included seven other countries interested in Japan's downfall and the war between Light's homeland and China.

Politics is not Kira's field of actions per se, but Light let this case be an exception. And so, for the next four hours he finds himself busy with making and answering the calls, observing the satellite streams, typing out messages and jotting down notes for himself. In a matter of hour he manages to secure for himself support of the high-ranking official, and now has profound connections, which make his work a lot easier. For the first time in his 'career' he doesn't use L's alias. He admitted being Kira for the official, and the only answer he got was "Please, help us".

It feels so great to use his own alias, to be the one the world is in need of, to be the one lives depend of. Light feels abnormally excited, adrenaline rushed and almost euphoric, skimming through files and busying himself with work. He almost wishes a bless upon that 'Paparazzi' gang, for with the help of this case, Kira's name will no longer be amongst the criminals.

Light thinks back, remembering that when L had been dealing with his cases, he never seemed content or jubilant. Whenever L worked on Kira case, he never truly felt it to his heart, like Light does now. He never seemed like he enjoyed his work. Well, not like that's Light's problem, L probably was incapable of feeling happy at all. To work like this is true happiness, thousand times better than working with L, better than anything.

"That's how everything is now, Eru. There are almost no criminals left. Just political tricks." he says softly, leaning back in his chair after finally granting for himself a minute of respite. "Ah... If only you knew how happy I feel right now. It's a shame you never felt this satisfied with your work. I wish I could see your face now, when you're looking at all the things you could've done were you wiser."

Light lets out a short laugh as he resumes his upright position. And just as he hovers his fingers above the keyboard, a loud sound of a phone goes off in the corridor of his apartment.

* * *

A/N: Well, that was a long piece of crap, but at least something happened in this chapter. Btw, father's day is in June, but let's just pretend we don't know it. Thank you for reading.


	10. Ch10 Luck

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 10 Luck**

"Onii-chan, it's me! Are you ready to go?"

Sayu's cheerful voice rings loudly in Light's eardrums as he holds the phone a little too close to his ear. He winces at the sheer loudness of his sister's voice and glances at his wristwatch. It's five in the evening. It's a miracle Sayu waited this long to call.

"Hello, Sayu." Light smiles as he walks back into the living room and plops into the armchair. Snatching a cigarette pack from the coffee table, he then lights up one of the white sticks and takes a puff. "I'm terribly sorry, but I really don't think we can go out today. But you still can come at my place and take the money."

"Duh, I knew you'd say that. Okay, wait a minute and I'll be right at your door. Fifth floor, 505, right?"

"Correct." Light nods and frowns. "Wait, where are you?"

"Well, technically speaking I'm in between the second and the third floors right now."

"So you're here?" Light asks dumbly.

"Yep. Open the door, I'm on the fifth floor already."

Light walks to the door, cigarette still clenched between fingers, and looks into the peephole just in time to see his sister walking out of the elevator.

What the actual hell? Didn't he tell her to call before she makes her mind to visit him?

Light glances at the wall, and catches the sight of his own worried and irritated eyes in the mirror. His hair is clean but a bit messed up after the whole day spent in headphones. He lost weigh during the days he spent asleep and now his face seems more angular and hollow. Light notices with disdain that the skin on his arms is now much too thin, with the clearly protruding web of veins underneath it. Even his fingers, that are clutching the fuming cigarette, seem too bony and sinewy. He wears his favorite cotton dark-gray t-shirt and comfortable black sweatpants. He doesn't look like himself. He hardly recognizes Light Yagami in that bum he sees in the mirror.

How is he supposed to greet Sayu while looking like this? What should he say in excuse? No, he shouldn't make excuses, it's her fault - she came here without any warning beforehand. Silly girl.

_Why couldn't you just do as I said?_

It's too late to change anything, Sayu's three steps away from the door of his flat, and the banging of her fist upon the wooden door comes too soon.

"I know you're there!" she sings playfully.

Light sighs and turns the key in a lock, opening the door and setting his eyes on Sayu.

"Hi! Come in." It's not a miracle that he manages to fake a sweet smile and act like a normal elder brother. He is a brilliant actor after all.

She hurries inside, closes the door behind her back and takes off her shoes, all the while eyeing his flat curiously. Light stands near the living room's door, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed.

"Wait a second, mind you?" he murmurs and turns his back to her, walking into the living room and taking the last puff at his cigarette before placing it into the ashtray. Laptop's quiet hum catches his attention and he hurriedly turns it off – it won't do any good to leave access to his work while Sayu and her idle curiosity are here.

"Well? How Sayu-chan's doing?" he smiles warmly, noticing his sister standing in the doorway, looking around with wide eyes. Light then paces to her, hugs her tightly and ruffles her hair. She hugs him back, a little more tightly than he expected, and lifts her head up, grinning.

"I missed you." She replies simply and then frees him from the embrace, taking a step back. "Raito..."

"Yes? By the way, how much money do you need? Let's talk business first, otherwise we might forget about it." He chats away while searching for his wallet.

"You smoke." Sayu says confidently and... are those notes of joy, Light hears in her voice? He turns to look at her, tilting his head to the side, a little perplexed with his sister's reaction. Sayu smiles that sly, secretive smile as though she's just discovered some Big Secret.

"Yes. Yes, I smoke."

"Cool!" she claps her hands and Light stares at her, disbelieved.

"What's so cool about that?"

"In my college those guys who smoke are the coolest ones. You know, that group of bishounen boys who walk around with smug faces, and girls just swoon over them."

"I sincerely hope you're not one of those girls?" Light says, suddenly suspicious and possessive over Sayu.

"Um... No. Though I like one of those guys. He's really cool."

"There's nothing cool about smoking." Light snorts contemptuously. "And those pretty guys will probably get busted out of the college before the next semester starts."

"Why would you say that?" She pouts, crossing her arms on her chest. "They may not be as smart as you, but that doesn't mean all of them are stupid. At least Yuu isn't silly. He's really really smart, and he even helps me with my homework sometimes."

"I guess I'll have to tell mom to watch over you. I wouldn't want my sister to get fooled by some douchebag."

"No, don't tell mom just yet! How about you meet him first?"

"That would be nice, but I don't have enough time. Best to tell our mother and let her decide if it's okay for you to date that guy."

"Yuu. His name is Yuu. And I'm going with him to Okinawa for a week."

"Yes, if dad says it's okay. Does he even know about your plans?"

"...Nope. He thinks I will be with Aiko and our friends, you remember her?"

"Your friend from school." Light confirms and walks to Sayu, placing his hands on her shoulders and frowning. "I do not approve of your choice. And, as your older brother, I forbid you this trip. It's for your own safety."

"What?.." Sayu stares at his serious face.

"I shall tell father and mother about your plans. I'm sure dad won't be very glad to know you were trying to trick him. He trusts you so much and look how you value that trust."

"They can't do anything. I'm already grown enough to take care of myself. I love Yuu and he loves me. He said he wants to marry me as soon as I'm twenty."

"For god's sake, Sayu, you're seventeen! You should already understand the consequences of the action you're intending upon! You may be grown enough to travel around the country, but you're clearly lacking in prudence."

"I'm eighteen, if you forgot. You were the same age as I am now, when you decided to live with Misa-chan." She frees herself from the clutches of Light's hands and takes a step back. "And Yuu won't do anything bad to me. He is a nice guy, and you know nothing about him!"

"What do _you_ know about him?" Light arches his brow sceptically, the foolishness of his sister wearing him thin quickly.

"He is polite and very handsome, he's smart and hardworking. He cares about me and he is very strong, he can open the bottle of beer with his bare hands."

"Oh really? But do you know his parents? Where do they live? Does he work in his free-time? Do you know something about his life, his past?"

"Not yet, but he will tell me as soon as we are free and alone."

"No, Sayu. You're not going with him to Okinawa. I won't let this happen."

"Raito!"

"I said 'no'. And I will make sure you won't have any way for a secret escape."

"Why are you so mean?!" Sayu's loud cry makes Light look her way. Her lips are shaking and she seems to be on the verge of tears. "I came here to tell you that I fell in love with a good boy, but all you do is yell at me, and reprimand me, and say nothing to support me! I know it's probably because you're getting older and stuff, but you became weird, nii-san. You don't visit family, you pay no attention to what happens to us... Do you even know just how often mother cries and lectures dad, because she thinks that it's him making you do this?! Do you know just how worried we were when you were taken to the hospital? You have no idea what is going on with our family, because you're always so busy, so self-centered, living happily in this flat no one knows about, smoking away your 'troubles' and caring for no one! And when was the last time you talked to Misa-chan?! She keeps calling me and our parents, she's so worried that you won't show up for the Farther's day to visit her parents' grave with her. I was worried, too, because I heard dad saying something about Kira to her, and..."

Light hits the desktop with his palms, creating a loud bang, and making Sayu flinch with a start. She trails off immediately, looking at her brother with teary eyes. He stands near the desk, head bowed, palms flat on the table top, supporting his weight.

"Enough." Light's voice is unusually low and husky.

Sayu stands there, numb, scared to move a limb and trig Light's ire further. She's never seen him this shaken with anger. Light's barely contended rage is almost palpable in the way his stiff fingers fiddle with his wallet, trying to find something there.

"Damn," he mutters a few moments later and throws the wallet onto the sofa. Light stands still for a moment, before turning to face his sister with a smile on his face, appearing relaxed and nonchalant. It scares Sayu, in some way.

"Raito?.."

"I'm sorry, Sayu, it seems I don't have enough cash to give for you to buy flowers."

"It's okay... I'm not going to Okinawa... so I can spend the money I saved anyway," she squirms around before daring to talk further. "Are you angry at me?"

"No."

"Are you sure? A minute ago you looked like you were about to hit me."

"What?" there's sincere shock in Light's voice, and Sayu can see it in his eyes, can sense it in the way he turned to gape at her. "Don't talk nonsense. I would have never done such a thing. I admit, I was a bit angry at you at first, but now that I think about your words, I can say that you are right. I've indeed become to selfish. I'm sorry."

He doesn't smile and looks serious. Absentmindedly, Sayu notices an ashtray almost full with cigarette butts near Light's hand, where it lays on his desk. She also sees now, when she had a trouble to look closer, that her brother doesn't look as flourished as she thought he would.

Clock on the wall ticks, steadily measuring the time. Birds chirp, and children play somewhere outside this small, cluttered apartment. The day is warm, hot even, and the stuffiness is worse here, but somehow it doesn't feel oppressive. It's that kind of stuffy air that feels like home, with its familiar smell of tasty lunch, mother's perfume, baby powder, rubber toys and dust on the sunlit shelfs in the living room. Suddenly she feels like she's five again and she's waiting for her brother to show some 'magic' trick in which she will believe, and hug him after, and ask him to play with her more.

She's frozen in the bizarre reverie, overwhelmed with sudden memories and the warm, fuzzy feelings they engulf her in. This trance is broken when Light chooses to speak once again.

"I believe I was wrong. You can do whatever you wish, just don't get in troubles, alright?"

Sayu flinches slightly, shaking her head to clear her mind of the warm fog and concentrate on the present.

"Yeah... I'll try to go wisely about everything." She makes a mental note not to go to Okinawa with Yuu. She doesn't know him all that well, and her brother is right in his precautions. Not that she'll tell him about her decision. He's snobbish enough already.

"Now, how about we go outside and choose presents for dad?"

"Really?! You're actually agreeing to come with me?"

"Yeah!" He laughs and fetches his wallet from the sofa's cushion. "I don't have enough cash, so we have to go together, so I can pay with my card."

"That's okay with me!" Sayu beams and grabs Light's hand, tugging him towards the entrance door. "Come on, let's go!"

"Okay, just let me change my clothes."

"Oh, right. Please, be swift."

He smiles at her before closing the bedroom door behind his back.

This July is unusually hot – the asphalt melts under his steps, the soles of his shoes make tacky sticky noises as he walks. Sayu strolls two steps ahead of him, her pretty heels leave a trail of small holes in melting ground beneath.

"It's so hot!" she whines, fanning her face with her palm.

"Yes. But the heat should abate soon, it's almost evening."

Sayu sighs. Light smirks. Though he has to admit, he wishes for a fresh breeze just as much.

"Do you have any ideas about the present?"

"Nope. I thought you'd help me to figure out."

"Well, I can tell that dad just loves when you cook the dinner and clean the house, thus letting mum have a rest."

"No way, our house is huge! It may seem small while littering it up, but when it comes to cleaning... And what about cooking? I can't manage two exhausting works at one day!"

"You're just lazy. And what about doing your room? Have you even started tidying it up yet?"

"You're such a bore sometimes."

"And you get distracted easily. We were talking about the present for dad."

"Oh, right!"

They walk lazily down the street - Sayu blurting out her ideas, Light just listening to her. They take a bus ride downtown, and it's evening when they arrive to their destination point – Ginza district.

Upon entering a boutique Sayu lets out a breathless "wow". No surprises here though, Light chose the most expensive one. He spends exactly twenty five minutes picking a tie for his father, and decides to buy one for himself, too, while Sayu's busy choosing the cuff links. They exit the building about an hour later, Sayu holding at least seven paper bags and beaming, Light just smiling at his sister.

"Thank you so much, onii-chan! You spoil me way too thoroughly," she laughs, clutching bags tightly to her chest.

"Oh? So there was something to spoil in you, huh? How come I not notice it while you were begging for that skirt? Or later for that bracelet?"

"Oh, come on! Don't be mean, you made me happy after all. All your sins should be forgiven for that generosity of yours," she nods with a serious face.

"Why, thank you!"

"You're welcome!"

They banter in a friendly manner all the way to the florist's, where Light lets Sayu choose the bouquet they will present their father with. He's not surprised with her choice – roses, the undying classic. He pays for the flowers and delivery, and then they're finally free from the shopping obligations.

"So? Where will we go next?" Sayu almost jumps with excitement.

"Hm, let me think. You will go home, and I will go to the grocery, I'm out of coffee, you know."

"What?!"

"You heard me."

"No way! I thought we were going to have a fun night, like go to some club or bar."

"You're eighteen, you shouldn't be allowed to visit such places," Light scoffs.

"You know what? Fine. For a moment there I thought I made you a bit less of a hikki than you were, but now I see I was wrong. That's just fine. Go buy your stupid coffee and get back to your apartment, sit there all alone, work or whatever. See if I care." **[*]**

She spins around at her heels and stomps away, angry looking and offended.

"Wait, Sayu!"

"Your flat is ugly!" she turns her head to yell at him, still walking away. "And it stinks!"

"What an obnoxious girl..." Light mutters, not having any desire to stop his sister anymore, or apologize for being a good older brother.

He turns his eyes to the florist's counter. His rented flat must smell really bad because of cigarette stench and him not leaving it for six days straight. Should he buy flowers, maybe?

Light stares at the flowers thoughtfully. Well, isn't it just stupid of him to purchase flowers instead of an air freshener? But the pungent odor that those sprays emit just flares his nostrils badly, so maybe..?

* * *

"So, you claim we finally found Kira?" There's evident distrust and not-so-evident mockery in man's voice.

"Yes, Toyama-san."

"Who is he?"

"I'm afraid we don't know it yet, sir." Frail man in his forties tries his hardest not to fidget while standing before his boss. Boss' figure has always been intimidating, not only for him, for all his colleagues (and even janitors) in the House of councillors.

"Is that so? What a pity. It seems I risked my place and my life for nothing. Have you heard how much noise did my little plan cause? Prime minister is ready to decorate anyone who catches Paparazzi. Hell, he's ready to start the war with China! And if we won't settle this affair soon... let's say, we will both regret it very deeply. When Kira is caught, we'll present him to the Prime minister, along with the Paparazzi kid. Everything's ready, do you understand it? My chinese friend Bo Jong believes my words, he has everything set up for me. "

"I do understand, sir."

"What's the problem then? Did you forget the plan? Let me remind you, Sato-san. While the Paparazzi is my idea, it's Bo Jong who does everything. It's him who organizes the murders. He believes that when I'm the Prime minister, I'll help him with his... affairs. But if Bo Jong is the one who does the work, what do I do? I'm trying to trace Kira. And Kira tries to trace Bo Jong. See? Is it clear enough for you, Sato-san? I catch Kira – Kira catches Bo Jong –I get both Kira and Paparazzi in my trap – I'm the most certain candidate for the head of the government."

Soft voice slides under his skin, gliding its way straight to his bones, chilling them. 'Just like a viper,' he thinks. His boss stretches thin lips in a smile, baring a row of small, pointy teeth.

"So what is the most important business right now?"

"To catch Kira. With our help he found Bo Jong and most of his accomplices. He hasn't killed them yet, he waits until he has everyone of Paparazzi in his list."

"Then why do you come here, telling we caught Kira, while we still don't know who he is. What's the point of that, Sato-san?"

"I'm afraid I didn't make myself clear, Toyama-san. We haven't managed to reveal his name, or his face, but we did track him. We recorded the..."

He doesn't make to finish the sentence, Boss claps his hands and looks him in the eyes. Deadly. Predatory. Disgusting. 'No. Not a viper. A shark,' he thinks.

"Don't waste my time. You should have told me this right away. I wonder what made you procrastinate? Perhaps, you are on Kira's side? Perhaps, you want both of us dead? Because if Kira or Bo Jong finds out what the plan is, and who stands behind it – we're as good as dead. Both of us."

"Toyama-san, I would gladly put Kira into the death row right now, but three hours ago we had no idea of his whereabouts. It's just now that we..."

"Enough. Less talk, more business. Call Ito and Noda, go with them first, trap him there and give me a signal when everything's ready. I shall reveal the greatest criminal in front of the media."

Boss smiles his unpleasant, nasty smile. 'Shark,' he thinks once again, shuddering with disgust inwardly.

"It will be done, Toyama-san." he bows and turns to leave, when his boss speaks up:

"Good job, Sato-san. I won't forget about your services when I'm the prime minister."

"Thank you." He bows once again and leaves to carry out orders. His name is not Sato, actually. It's Kato. Kato.

* * *

Back in his flat Light chastises himself for the stupid bouquet he bought. Not to mention he was looked at at the grocery shop because of the huge-ass bouquet, but there's also no suitable vase for the flowers in his flat. And what should he do with the giant bunch of flowers now? He throws the luxurious bouquet at the sofa and walks to the bedroom to change clothes. He's about to start unbuttoning his shirt when the phone in the hallway rings melodically.

"Hello?"

"Onii-chan..."

"What now, Sayu?"

"You forgot to take the tie you bought..."

"Well, it's you who walked away not giving me a chance."

She mumbles something affirmative in response and Light decides to soften, hearing his sister's resentful grumbles.

"I'm not holding any grudge at you, Sayu."

"But you will."

"Why would I do that?"

"Well... You see... I was so angry at you, that when I came home, I called Misa and told her where you live now... I'm sorry, onii-chan, I shouldn't have done that. I wasn't thinking straight."

Light stares at his own reflection in the mirror, at least a bit shocked. Misa knows now? She will come here at any moment and start crying, and throwing herself at him, and rambling bullshit?

"When did you call her?"

"About ten minutes ago... Are you angry with me? Please, don't be angry. Onii-chan? Onii-chan?!"

Light doesn't listen to what his sister says next. He throws the phone away and looks around with frantic eyes. Laptop. Clothes. Wallet. He doesn't need anything else.

Fifteen minutes later he sits in the taxi, his holdall bag perched on a seat next to him. It's going to be okay now. He called the renter, saying he was leaving the apartment, he booked a suite in the hotel, and he made it out of the complex without bumping into Misa.

He's going to be alright.

* * *

A/N:

**[*]** - hikki or hikikomori. Japanese term for a social group of young (and not so young) people who willingly withdraw from social life. Basically, hikikomori are modern recluses. Google it.

And thank you guys so much for paying attention to this story. I can't tell how happy it makes me to know that you actually enjoy reading it. And, Carla, I'd really love to properly answer to your reviews, but unfortunately I can't do that. So, just want you to know that I'm very grateful :)


	11. Ch11 Revelations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 11 Revelations**

Misa opens the door of a car that stopped on a parking lot near the apartment complex, and runs all the way towards the big doors of the building she knows Light's going to be in. She storms into the hallway and doesn't stop when a geezer-concierge shouts something at her back.

The elevator doesn't seem to work, so she sprints up the stairs as fast as she can. Light's there. He must be there. He will open the door and she will fly into his arms right away, and tell him how she missed him, and then they will kiss and return home together.

But the stairs are so long, and she's running out of stamina. On the fourth floor stairwell Misa stops to let her breath recover and fix her makeup. It's then that she hears loud noises and heated conversations coming from the floor above.

"The responsibility lies on you, Sato-san! The culprit escaped because it took you too long to detect his shelter!" some man yells.

"I'm deeply sorry, Toyama-san. It appears he somehow gotten to know about our plan to capture him."

"How could he possibly have gotten to know?!"

"That's a difficult question to answer, Toyama-san. There's no way he could have hacked into our computers, the security system we have is impeccable. He couldn't have known, unless there's someone who knew about the plan and had him warned about it. Or maybe he's just that lucky."

"Oh... Ooh... Come to think of it, Sato, you're actually right. Someone must have betrayed me. Hm..." The yelling man seems to calm down quite unexpectedly. "The only problem we have here, is that no one knew about my plan, no one. Except for you, Sato-san. And as I recall now, wasn't it _you_, who procrastinated with the searches? Back then I thought you were just being uncooperative, but now it makes me think that you're actually _worshiping _the murderer."

"I'm sorry?" The other man's voice sounds shocked.

"We will talk about everything later, Sato-san. Right now I need to get you confined for spreading the secret information and helping the culprit escape from justice." The yelling man says. "Noda-san, please call the police and get Sato-san back into the car. It's time to let NPA finally know that I've managed to do what they couldn't."

"Yes, sir."

What?! The police? If police still doesn't know about all this, then it should be kept just like that. But how could anyone possibly find who Light is, if they are not from the police? What has Light done?

Misa hears the sound of steps coming from the stair above her, and swiftly hides behind a ledge on the wall. She presses into the wall until she's sure no one can see her from the stairs. When two men are at her staircase, Misa pokes her head out to look at their names and faces. The shorter of the two has a 'Daiki Kato' letters above their head, and the other's name glows 'Yoshi Noda'. She wastes no time pulling her wallet and lipstick out of her bag, and scribbling both names with a lipstick on a piece of death note she has hidden inside of her wallet.

"Er... Boss, are you serious about Sato's fate? I don't think he's at fault."

"Are you a fool, Ito? Of course I won't let the police get to Sato. He'll betray me in a moment. I simply have to keep him terrified. You know how much he cares about his family, so I'll just have to exploit his fear further."

"Huh... I thought so."

"Now, lets wait for police to arrive and inspect this pit..."

"But boss, shouldn't we learn something about Kira's identity from the concierge or the flat renter first?"

"Do I look like I'm stupid, Ito? Of course, Sato... I mean I interrogated them already. Those plebs couldn't say anything useful. The only thing they kept droning was that he's a young man, tall, lean, with delicate face features. Oh, and apparently Kira is very polite."

"So, the handsome? Shouldn't the renter know his name?"

"She does." Misa can almost see the smirk in man's voice. "Ichiro Yamamoto."

"Is this the real name?"

"Don't be a dumbass, of course it's not. How many Ichiro Yamamotos can you find in Tokyo only? There are millions of them."

"True." The other man hums and then sighs. "Want to go smoke?"

"I think we shouldn't leave the flat unguarded. What if he or someone else returns here to hide the evidences? Oh, and speaking of that – shouldn't we don our helmets?"

"Nah. It's too damn hot in them, I can barely breathe."

"I will put on mine anyway."

"Even if Kira returns, why would he kill us? We're not criminals or anything."

"We oppose him!"

"He doesn't know it. You've got nothing to worry about, unless you are a criminal. Are you?"

The yelling man lets out a nervous giggle. "If having smarts is crime, then I am, he-he-he. Alright, there's probably no need in helmets."

Misa bites her lower lip nervously. These two men have to go away, she wants to see the place Light's been living in. Needless to say, she has to check if Light had something forgotten, he must have been in a hurry to leave the place in what appears to be only ten minutes.

She wonders if she should just kill other two men that are guarding the door. It will be easy – she'll just pass by them, look at their faces and then write their names in her death note. No problems at all.

"Raito's in a biiiig trouble." Ryuk declares, suddenly appearing near her, making Misa jump slightly.

"Did you see him?" she whispers, looking at Ryuk with worry.

"Nah. I don't need to see him to say that he's in trouble." Ryuk laughs raucously. "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm going to kill the men upstairs," she whispers, stepping out of her shelter.

Ryuk's laughter seems unbearably loud in the silence of the stairwell.

"You go!" he manages to utter through his laughter, following Misa upstairs.

She casts him a displeased glance before hastening her steps and stepping on a fifth floor staircase. There they are, standing at the left side of the hallway, near the open door. One man's back is turned to her so she can't see his face. Well, it seems she's got to take a risk.

She strolls in their direction, humming to herself. Misa can feel their eyes on her. Her heart beats at a twice fast pace, as she walks up to the door of someone's apartment and knocks. She tilts her head to the side and then a rather loud noise echoes throughout the hallway – Misa drops her cellphone. Both men that are standing near the door of Light's previous apartment flinch and look her way. 'Yuji Ito' and 'Ryo Toyama'.

"I'm sorry," she smiles sheepishly at them, picking up her cellphone and knocking on the door once again. After a long minute of no response from the other side of the door, Misa sighs and turns to leave.

It's another staircase where she stops to write down the names she's been repeating to herself over and over for the past minute.

"Done," she whispers to Ryuk, and puts her wallet and lipstick back into her purse.

"Let's go then?"

"Yep. They ought to go home and die there in sleep."

"You're so kind!" Ryuk coos before having another fit of laughter.

She ignores the shinigami's words and makes her way back upstairs, passing by Ito and Toyama, who walk down with a distant look on their faces.

"Here we are!" Misa looks around the empty hallway of the fifth floor before sneaking swiftly inside the flat.

"Kind of cozy, but I don't like the decorations." Ryuk proclaims, shoving his head through the corridor's wall to take a look at the bedroom.

The flat is indeed cozy. Small but homelike, and still bears the smell of the person, who left it not long ago. Misa rushes to the bathroom first thing, and just as she thought, she finds Light's shaving kit there.

"Misa will take care of all this..." she whispers, putting a razor and a lotion in her bag. She eyes the sink pedantically and decides to wash it, for she notices tiny coarse hair in the drain.

Not to long after she's immersed herself into cleaning of the sink, she hears Ryuk's surprised squeak.

"Ooooh!"

"What's there? Did Light forget his passport?"

"Nope, but look at this!"

Misa turns around to face the giant bouquet that hovers above her head. The bouquet is beautiful – white and pink roses, orchids, freesias, and some other flowers that Misa doesn't recognize. It looks like it was made for a wedding or another special romantic occasion.

"What a beautiful bouquet..."

"But why would Raito need flowers in the first place?" Ryuk seems overexcited with his finding and shakes the bouquet vigorously in his hand.

"Misa doesn't know..." she drawls, getting back to her task of washing the sink. "Misa is just glad that Raito left this place in time... even if Misa didn't get to meet her Raito because of this."

"But the bouquet?!"

She rinses her hands in already clean sink and turns around to face the shinigami, pouting her lips and wearing what she likes to think a cute frown on her face.

"Raito bought it as a present for Misa. He knew that Misa would come to visit him, so he wanted to make Misa happy with the pretty flowers."

"Huh? How did he know you'd come?"

"Gosh, Ryuk, don't be silly! It's obvious that Raito missed his Misa, but he was too proud to admit it himself, so he asked his sister to tell Misa where he lived. See now?"

She walks past the shinigami, still wearing a pout. Together with Ryuk they examine the rest of the apartment, but find nothing except for the half-full bottle of whiskey and two clean glasses in a cupboard.

"Okay, now I'll wipe everything here to get rid of the fingerprints. Would you mind helping Misa, Ryuk?" she asks, taking a cloth from kitchen counter and glancing at the shinigami.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

"I'll give you apples."

"Hm... if you grant me thirty of them today, I might think of helping you."

"Alright! Here, take this and start with a corridor." She shoves the cloth into Ryuk's hands.

The shinigami grumbles, but glides into the hallway and starts wiping off the phone with half-hearted vigor.

"I think Raito found another woman," he says out of pure boredom.

"What?" Misa turns around to look at him. "Don't be silly... Raito needs no one but Misa."

"Well I think he planned to have a romantic dinner with some lady tonight, that's why he bought the flowers and prepared the drink."

It's fun to poke Misa in the ribs. She's always so responsive to anything that pertains Light.

"He was going to have romantic dinner with his Misa."

"Whatever you say."

They spend an hour wiping all possible surfaces in the flat before leaving it. Ryuk talks nonsense and Misa knows it. Light doesn't have another woman. He doesn't need one.

But when she sits in the backseat of the car and looks at the colorful outskirt of the city behind the window, there's a doubt somewhere deep in her heart. Light hasn't been acting like himself for the past six months... But that doesn't mean he'd found another, does it?

She looks at the expensive bouquet on her laps and suddenly wants to throw the lovely flowers away.

* * *

"Would you like to have your dinner at the restaurant or should we bring it to your room?" reception girl chirps obligingly, while Light signs the check-in papers.

"No, thank you."

"Should I call the porter? I see you still have your bag on you."

"No, thank you," he repeats and hands her filled in papers. "But I'd like to go to my room now."

"Of course. Would you like for someone to escort you there, or-"

"It's fine, I think I'm able to find the suite myself."

He doesn't want to seem rude, but can't hide flickers of irritation in his eyes. _Just give me my key-card, will you?_

"Very well. Your room is 1208 on the twelfth floor," girl smiles at him, holding out small card. "If you need anything or have any question, please call the reception."

"I will. Thank you." Light smiles back before taking the key-card and walking to the elevator.

The elevator is all smooth metal doors and reflecting surfaces. Almost claustrophobic. Four walls, four mirrors. In each one – him. For no reasons at all he suddenly feels disgusted with mirrors and lifts up his head, so he would see the ceiling. His gaze meets the brown eyes of the man in the mirror, and he stares in them for a whole second and a half before moving his gaze to the floor – the only surface with no mirrors on them.

When the elevator stops, he walks out hastily, passing by the row of closed doors in the hallway, his steps quiet on the carpeted floor. Light feels strangely satisfied with the lack of other guests in the corridors – he picked the right time to check in, at eleven in the evening tourists either sleep off their tiredness of new impression they got during the day, or enjoy themselves in the downtown, drinking booze without the fear of getting mugged while drunk.

'1212'. '1210'. '1208'. Here it is.

He opens the door of his suite and steps into the darkness. The contrast with the brightly lit hallway is so striking, that he waits few seconds for his eyes to adjust. Light pushes the door closed behind him carefully, until he hears soft clacking of the automatic lock.

The darkness doesn't seem so harsh now. It's soothing and full of strange but wonderful things. Like the smell, that only hotel rooms hold – it's much artificial, still smelling a lot like wood polisher, but softer. He likes hotel rooms, they are... pure. Pure, in almost every meaning of the word. The sheets on the bed are cool and crispy clean. There are no handprints on the faucets or tables. There are no signs of someone living here before him, though he knows they did. It's the fault impression of purity that he loves.

The light switch clicks and makes a short beeping sound when he presses the button. Beige wallpapers, black tables, brown cushions on the creamy sofas, and white curtains – all neat and clean.

Light spends at least forty minutes unpacking his things, though he doesn't have much with him. It takes him another fifteen minutes to set up and get his laptop ready for work. He still hasn't got the 'Paparazzi' case closed. And he wasted enough time hanging out with Sayu and moving into the hotel.

"What the hell?.."

His angry whisper sounds more like hiss. It's the tenth time he tries to get ahold with the House of councillors official, having gotten the same result over and over: _'Connection failed.'_ What are these men thinking? Light's got almost all the 'Paparazzi' gang, all he needs the officials to do is to get him more information about Paparazzi's leader, who seems to have some other criminal connections, and then everything will be done with and forgotten. It will be grand closure of his very first _own _case. He'll bring all of the criminals to justice, only this time it won't be few lives that he saved. It will be the world peace that he managed to retain.

_Beep. 'Connection failed.'_

Yeah, but only when these cretins will actually get in touch with him.

He decides to make two more tries, and if both fail once again, he'll just hack into House of councillors' computer system and find everything he needs himself.

"Is that how you value the safety of the nation?" he snarls, shooting stony glares at the computer screen. "See, Eru? That's why the world needs people like me and you, we seem to be the only ones who actually _care_ what's going-"

Light breaks off abruptly, having just now realized that he'd spoken up to the imaginary L in his head for the second time this day. But why...

_Beep. 'Connection failed.'_

Ah, screw this all. He isn't in the mood for waiting.

It's an hour later when Light crashes his fist into the wall. Thin material of the wallpaper tears under his knuckles, and the little cracks spreads out the rupture like a web. The place where he hit the wall is now colored with few red stains. If someone took a close-up photo of this particular part of the wall, it'd look like a modern art painting – oval red stains and smudges on beige background. And his howl of utter rage, choked in a pillow, could serve as a nice soundtrack. While the words that are reeling, interrupting and smashing against each other in his head, might form a wonderful name for the whole scene. '_What the- Wankers, fucking morons- How dare you- But all of my work- How could I not- I'll kill them all, one by one- Shouldn't have- Kill- FUCKFUCKFUCK'._

He tears the pillow away from his face, throws it into the wall, and swears out loud and dirty, completing mini-performance. He stands in the center of not-so-neat-now room, looking around with rage-filled eyes. Well, it's a mess and he'll have to pay for the damage, but it was worthwhile.

The moment of letting out his frustration seems to have cleared the wrathful fog in his mind. Actually, his mind now appears to work as it used to earlier, about three years ago. Sharp, fast and precise.

He found out the truth about the 'Paparazzi' – that's good. One of the government members decided to haunt him down and almost fooled him – that's quite bad, but he's been through worse times. He knows the name and the face of that one particular member now – that's excellent. The government member might have someone who knows about his obviously top secret plan – that's unpleasant, but when Light excludes the head – the tail will rot itself.

Well, Toyama's plan got royally buggered up, but now Light's come with his own strategy. And it will surely work.

He reopens his laptop and once again enters Toyama's private computer system, his contacts folder. Bo Jong, Bo Jong... Ah, there he is. But the access is once again blocked with a password. Light huffs, irritated with simplicity of this Toyama man, whose motto obviously is "The more passwords I have – the more safe I am." Well... let the fool believe.

Light honestly hates this part of work – hacking, typing and _waiting_. He hacks the file with contact information for Bo Jong, he types the urgent message, and he waits for Paparazzi leader's response. According to information currently known to Light, Bo Jong's busy in Afghanistan right now, so it will take him about sixteen hours to make his preparations and get in Tokyo. Sixteen hours... Light should have everything arranged in this period of time.

He tears his eyes off of the computer screen and stretches his hand to grab his bag he left lying on the floor. Light then fishes out death note he has hidden in the secret place between layers of tissue. It doesn't take him even a minute to write Toyama's and Bo Jong's names there, time and causes of their deaths written beside their names, in large, neat hieroglyphs.

Basically speaking, he's now left with the whole 'Paparazzi' gang and few people who most certainly will be to scared to trace Kira themselves. Well, that's... splendid. Bo Jong will rush into Japan after receiving the alarming message from his accomplice, and that's where Light's judgement will fall onto him. And Light will do it with style.

Yet again he dials the connection on his laptop, only this time it's Sakura TV's host he's getting in touch with. The answer is almost immediate, and Demegawa's bored voice drawls after two long beeps.

"Yeah? Hello?"

"Hitoshi Demegawa-san? I obtain the information I believe you might be interested in."

Light spends another half an hour discussing his plan with that scum of a man, Demegawa. He sends some incriminating files he found in Ryo Toyama's computer, he announces time and place of the ill-fated Paparazzi's death, he instructs Demegawa at every step the man will have to take in order to get the sensational news.

When Light's finally done, he takes the death note in his hands yet again. So, tomorrow it is. Demegawa will start his show at nine in the evening, just like several other TV hosts over the world. And then there will be this dramatic final that people love so much. Cheap, but spectacular nonetheless.

Light smirks while writing down dozens of names of the Paparazzi group in three straight rows.

"Thank you, Ryo Toyama. You put me back on the right path."

* * *

_ I rinse my face in the sink and stay still, propped on my own hands, grasping sink's rim. I have absolutely no desire to come back. _

_ The bathroom here looks more like the latrine in some kind of nasty shebang, instead of the pub's toilet room. Walls and floor are covered in crackles, in some places tile fell off and bared ugly rusty pipes. There are weird, peeled and dingy stickers on the toilet cabins doors. And almost every tile is covered with scribbles. Signatures, or whatever they were, didn't last long on the damp walls, and ended up awfully smeared, dripping down the walls in colorful streams. Because of this smeared fluidity, bathroom creates the strangest feeling of a 'vanishing' room. _

_ I shake my head and look dumbly at the space between the sink and the mirror above it. There are scribbles too. Mostly unrecognizable, but one of them is seemingly new and clear enough for me to read at least some of the words. 'Got a hump of grief upon my back. And your palms, your words -. Wasn't the first one, wasn't the last one, but you hugged my knees while I slept. Days are just like past-due pills, but when one is past their -, one gets used. Chest full of Hell, the pandemonium's the only thing - -ot.' _

_ I read the last line and scowl. The last words, smudged and smeared so that I can't discern letters, irritate me. Hell, the whole meaningless message addressed no one in particular, irritates me. I moisten my palm with water and try to erase the nonsense from the wall, but it doesn't go off. Oh, well. Not my problem anyway._

_ I drop my stare at the sink, its rim is stained with toothpaste and some other substances, the origin of which I'd rather not know._

_ The door opens and you come in. You hold a glass of whiskey and cigarette in one hand, and an ashtray in the other. You don't say a word and proceed to put the ashtray and the cigarette on the sink rim, near the soap dish, and hand the glass to me. I watch you silently, catching the moment when your fingers stick out of the sleeves, awfully bitten. I don't know why you started eating yourself. You used to suck and nibble at your fingers, but never have you bitten at them like this – till it bled terribly. Your sleeves hide the problem from prying eyes, though. They hang down and you grab them from the inside to prevent them from rolling up._

_ I feel at fault for your new habit, and I can't do anything. Everything's so fucked up lately. You still refuse to cry, except for the time we make love, but we don't do it often anymore, and you do need a respite. I need a respite, too. _

_ I close my eyes and reopen them to look at myself in the mirror. To take a look at my puffed (and most likely broken) nose and blue jaw – the present I got from Matsuda of all people, when he had gotten to know what I am. Even my father didn't react that terribly._

_ The bruise looks terrible and hurts even worse when I probe and press at it, hard. I look into my mirror-twin's eyes and suddenly burst into tears. _

_ It's a shock for me – the ease with which the tears dwelled and spilled out, as if I've always been ready to break and start sobbing like a crybaby. Here I stand, glass of booze clutched in my hand, looking into the mirror, crying and being unable to stop. And all this time you stand beside me, peering at my reflection. I feverishly wish for you to go away, and you do disappear from my side for only few seconds, before coming back with paper towel for me to wipe away all the tears and snot. It's a disgusting sight, and in the back of my mind I wonder if you will stay with me after witnessing the revolting scene._

_ "Does it hurt?" you ask quietly._

_ "A bit."_

_ In order for me not to look at your face, I stare at my own shoes, quite worn and old. I don't remember ever looking this bad and tatty. Disgrace._

_ "So much that you cry?" _

_ Well, the tactfulness has never been your friend._

_ "No. Of course, not," I mutter. It was silly of me to believe that you will stay quiet or leave me be. _

_ "Drink a bit."_

_ I grasp the glass in my hand tighter and then spill its content down the drain. Fuck the drinks. I've been waiting for you to talk to me some more. In some way, I hoped that you will try to comfort me, or ask me questions, anything. But you stayed standing at my side, looking at my reflection with passive eyes, mute. And it's got me spilling my guts to you._

_ "I'm a mess. A fucking mess. I let everything go down, I ruined it all. My father hates me now, Matsuda hates me. I am sure that soon enough you will open your eyes to the truth, and then you will start hating me, too. It's so damn easy to hate, so damn easy. But hatred is the weakness, isn't it? They cry and shout about their weakness, while I remain silent of my true nature. They say it will have me dead one day, but they think I have it in me to vanquish the death. They all are afraid of dying, because they think death is dark and empty, just like their lives. I'm afraid to die, too, but I don't know how to defeat the death. I know how to lose a life, though. My sanity is waning, and everything feels too tiresome, did you even know that? Of course not. And I don't think I really know it, too. I only know every word that a lie is build of, but can these words help me now? I am tired, Eru. You know... my own confidence has always been my mightiest weapon. But you know how they say – when there's an uphill, there's always a downhill, and the worst thing about this, is that I'm not ready to go down. Somewhere deep inside of me there's a dead, rotting fish. It stinks and poisons me, and I can't get it out. It feels like I burned out and through, completely. And for one, who's been burned this thoroughly, it's impossible to light up once again. Do you even understand what I'm talking about? No, you don't. You probably think I'm a madman, and you're probably right in your judgment. Why? Because it's easy to be a madman, it's harder to be a sane person – like you. But you know what's the hardest? To be certain about yourself, about your way. And right now all I'm doing is second-guessing myself. And I think... I think I just have to end this all, and kill everyone who knows me, and then I will probably be able to start life anew."_

_ The words flow through my lips, I feel crazed while rambling all this, sometimes whispering, sometimes shouting the words. I must have really gone crazy. The thought makes me laugh, and I rather hear than feel my own laughter breaking through._

_ You look at me for a while, staying silent, and then you hop onto the sink next to the one I stand by. It passes somewhere in my mind that you'll stain your jeans with toothpaste and god knows what else, and I'll have to wash them. If such thoughts still appear in my mind, it means I'm not completely nuts, doesn't it? Or is it some sign of insanity – to notice weird details?_

_ "Right now?" you ask, ripping me out of my thoughts._

_ "What?" _

_ "Are you going kill everyone right now?"_

_ I don't answer for quite a while. Of course I'm not going to kill anyone. But you could at least pretend to believe me. And persuade me to change my mind._

_ "I was joking," I say gloomily._

_ "Why?"_

_ You don't wait for me to reply, and answer yourself._

_ "I understand that you wanted me to console you, and make you have a change of a heart first. But what were you planning to do next? Did you want to scare me with your speech? Then, why me and not your father, or Matsuda? Or maybe you wanted to grant yourself some support from my side in the future? I'm sorry, Raito-kun, but I can't promise you that. I'm not your nanny, you know."_

_ I feel myself burning from head to toes. And I don't really know what I feel right now – anger or shame. The way you said it, in your narration, it looked like I've acted truly pathetic. And what you said was frighteningly close to be truth. Only I didn't think of myself in such words._

_ "Enough," I almost growl. "That's enough."_

_ You blink._

_ "I said I can't promise you anything, but I can talk to your father and Matsuda, if it will make you feel better."_

_ "It will. I just want them to leave me alone." _

_ I've almost blabbed out that, in all honesty, I felt sad and secretly wished for you to be tender with me for once, for you are the only one whom I can talk to and be sure my words will find proper understanding. I wanted for you to show me that you do love me and care for me, in which I doubt too frequently. _

_ Instead of talking anymore, I grab the cigarette, light it up and take such a deep puff, that my eyes almost jump out of their sockets. The beaten man in the mirror reflects my greedy gesture, and quite suddenly I feel ashamed for both him and myself._

_ "Tell me, please, Raito-kun, why do you never speak what's truly on your mind?"_

_ I choke on smoke, and shoot you an angry glare while coughing. The rim of your white shirt got soaked with water. The lighting in the bathroom makes the shirt look snow-white, which in turn makes your eyes appear darker in color than they really are. And you are sitting there, staring at me with those piercing eyes, as though you want to drag the very soul out of my being. To scrape it out and examine it thoroughly._

_ "Why are you so keen on lying?" you ask again._

_ I take a surreptitious glance at you. It doesn't seem like you're making fun out of me, or trying to mock me. But what you say sounds damn much like a mockery. I don't have any inclinations for telling the untruth, it's just I have no choice but lie sometimes. Rarely._

_ "If I tell the truth to everyone, what will I get? Only more troubles."_

_ "No. You will get so much more if you openly tell what bothers you."_

_ "Aha. Like if I tell Matsuda that I'm bothered with his idiocy, I'll probably get shoot instead of just beaten. What a great advice you have there for me."_

_ "Or he'll laugh and excuse for his poor mental capacities, and then he will try to improve your opinion on him."_

_ It seems that you honestly believe your own words. And this blindness of yours makes me angry – you're not me, and you don't know what it's like to be in my shoes._

_ "Cut it out, Eru. I'm not changing. I lie sometimes because I know that I won't make it through without some secrets from the others," I mutter irritably, taking another puff. "It's not like you never lie yourself. Again, thank you for the advice."_

_ You hop off the sink suddenly and come to stand behind my back, so that I can see your face in the mirror._

_ "You're welcome," you say, staring at my reflection with unblinking eyes. It's actually a creepy sight, and I barely manage to swallow all the swear words that's been on the tip of my tongue, when I drop my cigarette in the sink. "Matsuda could give you that advice himself."_

_ "Yes," I nod. "Matsuda's got nothing to lose, telling the truth anyone."_

_ "Telling the truth can make things so much easier, or so much worse. It's not Matsuda that we're talking about. It's you, Raito. Do you know why you feel down? You seek the answer, you long for it, and yet you find none. It makes you feel even more depressed, and yet you prefer to go the hardest way, closing your eyes at truth you long for so much. I'd say that your answer lies in your hands, but it's not true, because if that was the case, I'm sure you'd stop with your useless searchings long ago. It's more like the answer you wish for, is sticked to your back, so that it is with you, but you're not able to see it."_

_ "If the answer's on my back... you should see it. Why won't you tell me what is the answer?"_

_ "I told you. I'm telling you right now. Don't you see it yet, Raito?" You continue to hypnotize my reflection. I feel uneasy, looking at myself in the mirror. You don't look at me in the room while talking, you look at my reflection, you're addressing it, making it seem as though there are three people in the room, and not just two of us. And the more times passes, the worse I seem to appear in the damned mirror. "Right here. The answer you seek is right here."_

_ "Stop talking to my reflection," I finally give up, glancing at you. "I don't seem myself there."_

_ "So you noticed it too." _

_ You finally turn your head away from the mirror to look at me. You seem disoriented, as though you've truly been talking to the man in the mirror, and not me. _

_ "Alright, let's forget about your doppelganger that lives in the mirror," you say._

_ "So you do believe that it's not me in there?"_

_ "It's you. Just twisted with your own perception. We all are so much worse in the mirrors, than we are in real life. Haven't you noticed this?"_

_ "I don't think about my counterparts while looking in the mirror."_

_ It's then that I understand what a drivel we're talking about._

_ "Quit this nonsense, Eru. It's not funny, really."_

_ But you laugh, softly and quietly._

_ "No, Raito-kun, it is funny, I swear. When you only got to understand something about yourself, your first reaction is to throw this understanding out of your mind."_

_ "I did not throw anything out," I grumble._

_ "Look there again, Raito-kun," you say, nodding at the mirror. "What do you see?"_

_ "A beaten man, who suffers through some weird talk with his crazy other half. What else should I see? Though, wait, I've just noticed an inscription in the corner, but I believe it's too inappropriate to say it aloud." I speak rather sceptically._

_ "You'd better avoid mirrors for some time, Raito-kun. At least till you stop pitying and simultaneously praising yourself. I, for one, rarely look in the mirrors," you say, pressing the almost maimed thumb to your lips. I'm afraid that you will start chewing on it again, and open the barely healed wound._

_ "Don't chew on your fingers. You've already eaten almost all the flesh," I say, slapping your hand away. "And I don't see a reason for you not to look in the mirror. You're beautiful."_

_ "But do you know what I see in the mirror?" _

_ "You probably see a wide-eyed panda that has an adorable smile. But if I were you, I'd see an inciting sight of a..."_

_ "...sickeningly pale, gaunt and creepy man, who looks like he's just gotten thrown out of his last shelter, and had done many things that he regrets," you end my speech and then sigh, coming a step closer and wrapping your arms around my stomach from behind, while resting your head against my back. "I am not what you see, when you look at me. Just like you are not you in the mirror. That's why I don't like mirrors, the reflection there can do horrible things."_

_ "...Right. I get it," I say quietly and turn around in your embrace, to hug you in return._

_ "Really? You do? To tell you the truth, I myself don't understand it, though I've always wanted to understand."_

_ "Gosh. You're playing with me once again, aren't you?" I sigh, freeing myself from your arms._

_ "No. I'm telling the truth."_

_ "Okay. Let's go back home, I don't think we should return to them."_

_ "Don't you want to talk to Matsuda and tell him what's truly been on your mind?" you ask, sneaking to my side to watch me try fixing my own nose in the mirror._

_ "No one needs to know what's on my mind. It's more than enough that you read me like an open book. And didn't you promise me to talk to Matsuda?"_

_ "I didn't promise. I just said that I could do this, if it would make you feel better. But it won't, and you know it," you say, and just before we leave the bathroom, I take the last glance at the mirror. The man there looks a bit better now, but still appears slightly rotten in the inside. I straighten my back and try to assume a dignified air, but the man starts looking like a conceited fool. Well... it seems that I should really avoid mirrors for some time._

* * *

Light opens his eyes slowly, mind still clouded with sleepy fog. It takes him few moments to remember everything that happened during last twenty four hours. Sayu. Flowers. Misa. Betrayal. Plan.

He lays on the bed, still fully dressed, having been too tired to actually peel himself off the clothes before falling down onto mattress. He feels a sticky fear paw at his heart, leaving heavy and unwanted imprint on him. He supposes it's a weird kind of phobia that he cultivated within himself. Really, who else would have managed to feel frightened while getting up from sleep, looking at the clocks, and checking the date? Most of all he's scared to feel more exhausted than he was when he blacked out.

But... he's fine. For the first time in almost a year, he feels well-rested and full of energy after sleep. No headache, no oppressing thoughts, no fatigue.

Light lays still for two more minutes, analyzing state of his body. Is he really feeling so... healthy? Maybe he's simply not fully awake yet?

When no signs of any pain whatsoever come after five minutes of idle rest, Light hops off the bed and rushes to his laptop first, to check date. It's Sunday, July twenty second, ten in the morning, and that means his sleep lasted for seven hours. Seven hours... of almost normal sleep.

His lips twitch in a timid smile, that grows larger with every second. He... recovered. He did his duty as God, and he recovered. He found the right solution. All he needed was his work as Kira, as God, who makes the world a better place. It was the boredom that made him have stupid dreams, but now everything settled down. Fuck those dreams, fuck L and the bullshit he babbled in Light's dreams.

Light shakes his head, still smiling brightly. He came out victorious from his battle with himself. It feels like being on top of the world. Nothing can be better than this. Nothing.

He takes the shower, humming under his breath. Everything's perfect now. And after he's done with the Paparazzi, he will take Misa to the vacation. They both deserve it.

* * *

"He's not getting well. It... it doesn't work."

"I'm sorry to tell you, but it seems there's nothing more I can do to help you."

"Medications were effective for a short period of time. He was going quite well when taking them. We should try again."

"It won't help. He is a special case. It's hard to predict when he'll lose the bond with reality, or, should I say, when his bond with reality will reestablish itself."

"There's got to be something you or I can do."

"I'm afraid the matter's in his own hands."

"It is. But it doesn't mean he has no need in help. When his mind's clear, I talk to him. I talked to him the other day, and he seemed sane. At least he gave me a sign he knows something's wrong with him. But what worries me is that I can't really understand if he talks about the real situation, or if he addresses his... world. I sometimes get the feeling he doesn't have a clue what's really going on."

"I recommended you not having conversations with him. It can worsen the matter."

"I know. I just can't hold back when I see that he's here... And his progress did worsen."

"..Still, there's nothing I can do. My apologies."

"He thinks I'm dead and he is perfectly sane. His father forbade him the house. His friends know now, too. They all think he's on drugs."

"What do you expect me to say, sir? All I know he's got very slim chances."

"I hear you are the expert in field of shock treatment?"

"Are you sure you want to subject him through such a harsh experience? There's no guaranties of positive result I can give you. Though, I admit, strong shock might serve him well. Or make his condition worse than ever."

"I suppose I will have to wait until he gets better by himself. He can do that."

The old man before him sighs.

"Lawliet, may I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you even try? It's hard for you, I can see it. But it will do both of you a favor, if you just leave him be."

"I can't."

"I understand. But think about my words for some time, please."

"We've been together for almost three years now. And he's been fine all this time, it's just the recent that he loses his bond with reality, but he seems to get better when I am around. I won't leave him, unless he makes me believe that he wants me to go."

"Maybe we should try shock treatment, as you suggested earlier?"

"No. Not yet. I'll be going now, Wammy."

He unfolds his legs from the chair he sits upon. He doesn't like being here, doesn't like the old man that speaks to him, though this very man guided him since his childhood days. Quillish's office represents the very idea of luxury, with its Persian carpets, cherry wood and golden statues. He doesn't like the put on of wealth, that he sees. Though, the chair is pretty good, being big, easy and comfortable.

"You need some treatment, too. I think I know the reason you clutch onto him so tightly. You still can't forget..."

"I won't ever forget. I promised. Goodbye."

"Goodbye. And, please, go softer on yourself."

He doesn't answer and closes the door behind his back, leaving the old man alone in his splendor.

* * *

A/N: Just wanted to say thank you to M. Petrosyan for the inspiration with the bathroom scene. And also, I'm actually having quite a dilemma - should there be another lemon in the next chapter or not? And thank you for reading.


	12. Ch12 Secrets

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 12 Secrets**

The day is a failure. And Light knows for sure that he won't take Misa for the vacation, no. And everything seemed to go so smoothly... Damn.

After the shower, Light had his breakfast and read morning newspaper. What he found there surprised him, however in a bad way. Four people were found dead in their houses, all had the same cause of death – heart attack. Ryo Toyama's death was the headline of the issue. And if that's not Misa's work, then Light will soon start believe in fairies.

He called the blonde fool, and when she came, she made a scene, not a romantic one. Misa stormed inside his suite, she cried, and sobbed, and yelled for some awfully annoying period of time. She brought the bouquet he bought the other day, and threw it in his face, shouting some nonsense about another woman he'd supposedly found. It was then that Light did something he's never done before. He slapped her across the face, hard, and that did help Misa to calm down – she fainted.

Fifteen minutes later he knew everything that happened after he left his rented flat.

He wonders how could he not figure out that Misa would certainly bump into Toyama that day. It was inevitable. But the deaths of innocent people could have been avoided. Misa killed all four men that were after Light. And only one of them did deserve to be killed. Misa is a bloody murderer, who has no honor and respect whatsoever. She doesn't analyze the seriousness of the crime, doesn't take in account the aftermaths of her actions. Light would certainly kill her for being a ruthless murderer that she is, if it wasn't for the fact she also serves him as help.

"I see," he says, reclining in the chair, legs crossed and gaze grave. "What you did was a mistake. You should have just walked away, not killing anyone."

"But they were after you! Isn't it a crime to oppose Kira?" she whispers in panicked manner.

"God damn it, Misa! You killed four men, while knowing nothing of them or their deeds. What's your definition of crime, huh? It is indeed a grave mistake to oppose me, but what made you think I couldn't solve everything myself? I had my plan, which included Toyama's participation, but now I have to think of a new way," Light hisses.

"I... I thought I was helping you. You would have killed them all, too, would you not?"

"No. Can't you understand? You're doing the same mistake over and over again! First it was when you caught L's attention with the death of some pickpocket, and now you've worked media into a frenzy over the fact that Kira killed some officials!"

"I'm sorry, Raito!" Misa whines and lets out a sob. "I'm so lost without you... I thought I was doing a right thing..."

He listens to her with half an ear. If Toyama's dead now, his plan should still work. Few corrections are all that need to be done. He's never tried this before, but will it work?.. Light glances at Ryuk, who smiles like a maniac behind Misa's back.

"No..." Light finally says, raising from his seat to come closer to Misa. He puts his arms around her carefully. "It's me, that ought to feel sorry. Please, forgive me. I shouldn't have hit you."

"No, you were right. I am a fool," she still sobs, clutching onto him for dear life.

"I still love you," he smiles at her reassuringly. "But right now I have to talk with Ryuk."

"Why won't you talk to me instead? I want to stay here, with you."

Light feels like slapping her yet again.

"I have to ask Ryuk some things. It's vital for me. Now, please, get up and go home. It won't do good, if the task force notices your disappearance after the suspicious murders. You were suspected to be Kira, after all. I'm asking you this for your own safety."

"...Okay. But promise me that you will return soon!"

"Of course, I will. As soon as I'm done with the case, I will return home."

Misa nods and gives him a kiss before leaving his suite. Light makes his talk with Ryuk short, upsetting the shinigami with his curtness. Not like he bothers. Now he knows that he can simply strike out Bo Jong's name with two lines, and then write the name and the cause of death anew.

The rest of his day is a frenzy, with the task force panicking about deaths and searching for some clues in latest happenings. They still don't know what to do with Paparazzi, and most certainly they have no clue what awaits for them in the evening.

At nine p.m. Light turns on the TV, just to look at the turn out of his plan. It's then that his father chooses to connect with him.

"Raito! Turn on Sakura TV channel! It seems Kira has something to do with it!"

"Just a moment, dad," he mutters, switching channels.

There it is – Demegawa stands underneath the Tokyo Tower, looking into the camera with greedy eyes, ready to count all the profit he'll get after this live transmission. Camera changes to another, that's obviously filming from the helicopter, to present a view of no one other but Bo Jong, who stands on top of the tower and screams something.

"What the..." Light feigns shock, observing the scene on the TV.

Light notices few different helicopters of other TV channels, with crews on their boards trying to get a good view of the unfolding situation. That's good, it means the case will gather attention worldwide.

It's hard to make out what Bo Jong screams, with all the wind and helicopter noises, but then the door behind his back opens and Sakura TV crew rushes to him. Camera changes once again, and now Light sees Bo Jong's profile. The mic, that hangs above his head makes it easy to hear what the Paparazzi leader's got to say.

Light knows exactly what will Bo Jong tell people, but still listens to the confession about his work as a criminal, and his cooperation with Toyama, and what Toyama planned to do with his plan. It goes on for quite a long time, Bo Jong's face sometimes vanishes from the screen to let the images of Toyama's secret documentation be shown.

Casting a glance at his watches, Light knows that Bo Jong's got only a minute before his final words. Forty seconds. Twenty.

"And Kira now knows about my deeds!" Bo Jong yells on top of his voice. "And it's him who will smite me for my sins, for there is no other salvation for my soul, but the death at the hands of God! Hail Kira!"

Those should be the final words, Light knows. And, indeed, Bo Jong freezes for a moment, clutching his chest at the left side, and then falls down.

"Oh God..." Soichiro whispers. "Kira is a sick bastard if he wanted to do it that way."

Light really didn't plan it to go that way, but the screams of terror underneath the tower are priceless. Bo Jong didn't fall onto the floor. His legs stumbled over one another while he was convulsing in agony, and he tripped over the fence, sending his already dead body flying onto the ground far beneath.

Camera changes yet again, showing Demegawa's face, sleek with sweat and grease.

"Did you see it, citizens?!" He yells at the camera, waving his hands haphazardly. "Let's all praise our mighty savior! Long live Kira! You are the..."

Light doesn't listen what the crazy TV-host's got to say next. His part of the work is done. People know the truth now, criminals have been punished, and his respect should have gone up in the eyes of the crowd. Well, if Bo Jong's unfortunate fall didn't spoil it all, that's it.

"So, it was indeed Kira, who killed the officials yesterday," Light mutters in his headphones mic.

"He... he just..."

Light doesn't listen further. His heart stops for a moment, and he sits numb in the chair, staring at one spot. He sees L. _He sees L_.

It's impossible, but here he is, idly walking in front of Light, picking up something from the floor and then glancing up at him.

"You're here?" L asks him with some kind of uncertainty in the voice. "Raito-kun?"

"Raito?! Are you even here?" his father's voice interferes.

Light shakes his head. He scrunches his eyes shut, and when he reopens them, there's no sight of L in the room. What the fuck was that?!

He feels cold sweat on his back. His heart dropped into the dip of his stomach, but now it came back, beating against his ribs like crazy. Damn, he's never been scared like this before. Even his legs feel awfully weak.

"I-I'm here, dad, I'm listening," he stutters.

"What should we do?"

"I don't know... I need to think some more... Actually, no, I've got to go now."

"What?! Are you finally coming back?"

"No... Listen, dad, just call to Sakura TV and ask Demegawa some questions. Maybe he knows something," he speaks hurriedly and closes his laptop.

Light rips the headphones off his head, and hops onto his feet. He can swear he saw L. He can swear the room looked different for the short second, that L appeared before him.

"What do you want?" Light whispers. "Tell me, what do you want?"

There is no reply, but Light feels something touch his shoulder. He turns around a moment later, but again there's nothing.

"Alright... Okay. I think I know what you want," he whispers, trying to calm down.

Yes, maybe this will work. And if it won't... better not to think about that just yet.

He leaves the suite, walks out of the hotel and stops a taxi.

"Yanaka cemetery."

The cemetery looks gloomy under the bright moonlight. The gates are closed, but the fence is low enough for him to get over it. Light paces carefully, just so he won't attract any attention of janitors or watchmen. Gravestones are spaced very closely, so there's almost no way to get to the farthest ones. The cemetery ground is huge, but Light knows exactly where to go.

He passes hundreds of graves on his way, holding the bouquet in his hands tightly. It must be a sinister experience to walk across the graveyard at night, but he doesn't feel scared of the place.

The western side of the cemetery looks better than the rest of it. Time didn't lay its print upon the gravestones here just yet. Light makes his way to the farthest corner of this side of cemetery. He knows L lays there. He already sees the simple cross, that serves as the gravestone on L's burial place.

Light takes two final steps before standing in front of the grave. The cross on L's grave looks like a mockery. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to put this thing as L's gravestone?

He sighs, and then bends down to place the bouquet near the unnamed grave. Flowers look a bit battered, but still appear rather nice.

"Sorry about that," Light mutters, while placing the bouquet. "I know it doesn't look so good anymore, and it's not the bouquet one's supposed to bring to the grave, but I didn't plan to come here, so... take them. They cost quite a lot for them being mere flowers, you know."

He feels stupid talking to the cross. It's hard to actually believe that here, under the layers of soil, lays L's body. Probably already half-decayed with time, beetles and worms. Light shudders with disgust upon the thought of that. It would be nice to just leave the place, but he needs to talk with L before he can leave.

"Let me go straight to the point. Stop with your nonsense. If you're planning to drive me crazy with dreams and hallucinations, then I'll have to say that you're simply being rude. What don't you like about the situation? You knew that one of us would eventually get killed, you were prepared to die. Weren't you happy to die at my hands, knowing you were right? I let you have all that. But now you think it's appropriate to molest me in every way possible? You're being ungrateful and rude, Eru. Stop it. I don't want your company, I want nothing from you. Just leave me alone," Light says in a hushed voice, looking at the cross. "Don't get me wrong. You were an excellent rival, but you lost to me. Everything was fair. So, please, have some honor and stop trying to get at me from beyond the grave."

He doesn't know what more to say. And he still feels uncomfortable talking to the gravestone, as though it will answer him somehow.

Light sighs and stares at the flowers for a minute before whispering:

"I've got nothing else to tell you, Eru. I am not sorry for killing you, if you wanted to hear me repent. Let us just part our ways."

He turns his back to the grave and slowly walks away. Somehow, he doesn't feel better. Somehow, it feels like his talk with L was in vain.

* * *

The low hum of electricity and slightly blinking lights on the ceiling should be unnerving, he knows. But here it feels comfortable. Home-like.

He steps past the doorframe and suddenly gets dizzy. Ridiculous... This place is the borderline to his comfort-zone. This is his home. Here, amongst the rusty pipes, cracked tiles and walls in handwritings, he can leave the thoughts and demands of the world.

He stands in front of the wall, looking at all the inscriptions and doodles that come over one another, so that he barely can distinguish any detail. Some of them he made himself. Some are the creations of other hands.

His palms are slippery with cold sweat, and he nearly drops the felt pen he clutches so tightly. It's his revelation. His very confession. This place is like a church for him. These walls are his personal priests. And the words he writes form the holy scriptures of his soul.

"The mug of tea shall tell how sadness drops out of the muscles of our hearts. How body blacks out after the very first puff, moan stifles throat, and I run barefoot into the kitchen, I run to you. It hurts so much when nothing hurts, and one is still a child. The neck of our house is dirt, my twisted shoulder blades against the blind wall, and you... you'd better hit me than spend your words. The life is like a stomachache. I feel so sorry, it disgusts me, so sorry for every lie that ever ripped my lips. Please, bear with this. They all are pretty, distant, laughing, cute and bright – you stand beside, a helpless smile on lips. They are nothing like you. Your heart is filled with seals, your sanity's a fog, your life gives birth to troubles.

How can it be that I'm alone, when we're together in the room? I can't embrace you, I can't hit you. Your face's the very meaning of affection, and I am a fool, clutching onto your jacket, standing still and silent. For every word leads to us breaking our bones. Not sickness, not madness, but I still wish for the recovery. But we were happy, once. We...Us...

Us – it's when you kiss my eyes, and it hurts more than any of your blows."

There. A week later his little confession won't be recognizable anymore, but he will know that walls have his secret imprinted forever in their memory.

He shoves the felt pen into the pocket of his jeans and turns his back to the wall. It's time to go home.

* * *

_I've been waiting for you for two hours already. Where the hell did you go? You don't even answer your phone, so I have no means of connection with you. _

_ For a moment I feel afraid that something bad happened to you. What if you were mugged, and now you lay somewhere in the dark alley, bleeding and barely breathing? The image of your body, limp and covered with blood, flashes before my eyes, and I shake my head to throw unbidden thoughts away. You should be fine. _

_ Ten minutes later I hear the quiet rustle behind the entrance door and I rush to the hallway of our house to watch you close the door behind your back and start taking off your hoodie._

_ "Where have you been?" I ask sternly, examining your appearance. No bruises or other visible signs of hurt, except for your chewed up fingers._

_ "Oh, you came to your senses?" you look surprised and then smile at me. "I'm sorry, Raito-kun, I thought you'd still be asleep when I come back."_

_ "So? Where were you? I tried calling, but you didn't answer."_

_ I grumble, following your steps into the kitchen, where you put a kettle onto stove and start preparing tea._

_ "Wammy called and asked me to come," you say nonchalantly, and then shoot me a sly glance. "Why, Raito-kun? Are you jealous?"_

_ "No. Why would I be? I was merely worried that you dropped dead on your way back home."_

_ But really... why am I so certain that you're telling me the truth? Come to think of it, why I feel sure that you won't leave me one day? It's not like you can't find someone to be there with you, except for me... I am not a perfect choice, and we both know it._

_ No. What am I thinking about? Nothing's wrong with me, right? _

_ I shake my head once again, feeling utterly bewildered with my own thoughts._

_ Next half an hour we spend in the kitchen, me drinking the tea, and you eating sweets. We talk, and talk, and talk some more, mostly discussing some drivel like the color of new curtains for the bedroom, or if it's prudent for us to get a dog. I can't help but notice that your eyes remain sad and tired, though you smile and even laugh at my silly jokes, sometimes._

_ I can't stand seeing you like this, so after we finish the tea, I put dishes into sink and leave them there. Washing can wait, you, however, shouldn't be kept waiting._

_ You're walking through the corridor, heading to the living room, when I tackle you from behind and thrust you into the wall, pressing your front flat against it. A husky groan escapes your lips, and I notice you flinch. I stand so close to you, that when an anxious tremor runs through your body, I can distinctly feel your lower part pressing closer to mine, even for just a second. You can't really move with the way I've got you almost imprinted into the wall - my forearm pressed against the back of your neck, and your wrists seized together in my grip behind your back._

_ "What are you doing?" you whisper, not even trying to turn your head and look at me. "Raito?"_

_ "What do you think I'm doing?" I murmur, freeing you from the grip of my hands, but pinning you with my whole body instead, pressing as close to you, as I possibly can._

_ You don't have to answer, as I slid my hand under the lower rim of your loose shirt, gliding it upwards, to pinch the soft buds on your chest between my fingers. You sigh quietly, with the air of relief, and I feel your body relax against me. Did you really think I was going to hurt you?.. _

_ The thought is revolting and scary, and I press my lips to the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of skin and whispering muffled words:_

_ "I'd love to claim you right here and right now. Don't you want this?.."_

_ "You should know better."_

_ "I know. But do you want this?"_

_ You keep your silence for a few moments, before finally breathing out:_

_ "Yes."_

_ I take your chin in between my fingers and tilt your head back, so that I can kiss your lips, sucking on them greedily and caressing the skin of your neck with my palm._

_ Not much time passes when you're stripped of your clothes, standing in front of me, pressing your back into the wall and hiding yourself from my eyes with your palms, having them cupped between your legs. It amuses me how you still hate being completely naked under my scrutiny, even though there's no such place of your body that I haven't seen or touched. _

_ But it's also damn endearing. Your cheeks flush bright red and I almost feel the heat that surges through you, when I take your hands in mine and draw them aside, kissing you down there. _

_ "You act as though you don't like this," I whisper, kissing the straining flesh once again._

_ But when I look up, I see that your eyes are filled with clear tears once again, and this time we're not even in the heat of the moment. And this is when I decide not to give a damn about my own arousal, and start comforting you instead, kissing your eyelids, stroking your hair and whispering just how much I love you and want you to be happy. And then you, being a weirdo that you are, throw yourself on me. Not with a lustful intentions, no. Your embrace is a far cry from any sort of carnality. Rather, it's a proclamation of despair and tenderness, that I feel in your arms. And it makes my heart squeeze in such a painful and sweet manner, that I lay you down onto the soft carpet and search blindly for your lips, find them and mesh them gently together with mine._

_ Then it's all a blur. I stroke your sides, scratch them with my fingernails, leaving pale pink stripes on white skin, while you curl your legs around me, pressing me closer, hugging tighter. I can feel the slight wetness between your legs and it drives me insane._

_ I want you so much that it hurts. I lust for your body, for I know your heart is already mine._

_ I drive into you slowly, bit by bit, smacking all the feelings I get while doing this. Your breath is labored, and I see how your chest rises with every intake of air, while I fill your insides to the brim. It must hurt, but I can't hold any longer and slid out of you slightly, before slamming back. It makes you yelp, but the pain won't last for long. _

_ I bent down to place a reassuring kiss on your slightly shaking lips, and then I do it all over again. Sliding out of you ever so slowly, but then thrusting back into the tight, hot canal. You're biting you lips hard, so that no whimper escapes through them, and all I hear are your muffled groans that you can't prevent from uttering, while clutching the handfuls of the carpet._

_ You flinch and squeeze you muscles from the inside when I draw my nails down your chest, the unintended action of yours makes me let out a husky moan. _

_ One more harsh thrust before I slide out of you in agonizingly slow manner, almost pulling out completely and leaving just a tip inside of your trembling body, looking down at the opening that releases me grudgingly, stretching and pulsing at the edges. And then it's a frenzy of thrusts, and your eyes roll back while you moan without restrain, clutching onto my shoulders, as I bite your collarbone, loving you vigorously and fast. I feel the strain in my hips, and I know I won't last any longer, and the taste of your blood is the final chord in this madness. _

_ I come inside of you, biting your clavicle yet again, and when I look down, you look as though you're lost in sensations, not knowing whether what you're feeling right now is bad or good. Your whole body is shaking, and you still haven't found your release, judging by the way you look in your nether regions - flesh straining for attention, veins protruding and pulsing, as though each of them echoes the rapid beat of your heart._

_ "Don't be afraid, baby... It'll be alright..." I whisper, kissing your lips and wrapping my fingers around your aching flesh, stroking it._

_ "Harder..." you stutter a bit, your breath hot on my skin._

_ "As you wish."_

_ I pump my fist up and down your length, squeezing fingers tightly, rolling thumb around the head occasionally, smearing the translucent fluids. I see that you are close, so I put you in my mouth, suck, and feel your frame shudder when you release. _

_ You're still breathing heavily, eyes shut, with some sort of weird half-whine coming from your lips. I lean down to kiss your shoulder, near the reddened from my bites skin on your collarbones. _

_ You will fall asleep now. That means I have to wash you and carry to bed._

_ I lay facing you and watch your eyelashes quiver as you move your eyes under the closed eyelids, sleeping. It's been three hours since you fell asleep. Your skin has a light smell of soap and the veins stand out beneath it, light-blue and thin. I trail my finger down the vein on your belly, till I lose the track of it. Then I slowly press my lips to the vein that drew my attention and kiss my way down it, driven with sudden desire to lay a kiss at every vein in your body. You stir after few minutes, clearly waken by my actions._

_ "Raito?.. What are you doing?" your voice is soft and a little raspy. I feel you tangle your fingers in my hair, combing them, while I press my face into your stomach._

_ "I love you," I mutter into your skin._

_ "I love you."_

_ "No... You don't understand. It's not the 'love' I'm used to feel. I can do anything for you, I am willing to kill for you, I'm willing to die for you. It feels like I have something in my chest, that brims me and makes me want to do anything to make you happy. Your body... it's like a temple for me."_

_ You stay silent for a few moments, and then I feel your stomach sink as you sigh, wrapping your hands around my neck._

_ "I wish you could just feel content with this love," you say quietly. "I don't want you to be obsessed. Love and obsession are very different things."_

_ "You think I am obsessed?" I raise my head and look at you, resting my chin at your belly._

_ "I believe you are."_

_ "How do you know?"_

_ You look me in the eyes and once again run your fingers through my hair._

_ "I don't feel like talking about this, Raito-kun. It's something that makes me feel... uncertain about myself."_

_ "You never talk to me about your past. I wish you could open up a bit."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "I want to share every of your grief and joy. But you won't let me."_

_ "I was raised in the orphanage."_

_ "I know."_

_ "Just listen, Raito. It's hard to understand for those, who never lived there, at my home. Who wasn't the part of what we had. Children at my home were nothing like those, who lived with parents, or those, who grew up in the ordinary orphan asylum. There were scores of us. Some were little kids, who just learned to walk properly, some were older. I got into my home when I was five years old. The first evening I spent there, I got beaten and lost two of my teeth. Children didn't like the newcomers. They didn't like the smell of family they could still sense, or this I thought. Two months passed. I still got beaten every day, but I learned to defend. I broke nose to one of the boys. I still wasn't the part of their 'family'. I say 'their family', because all the inhabitants formed gangs, their own little families if you wish. Every family had its rules, and you had to change yourself just so you could become a part of the family. I couldn't change. You'd think I felt lonely. I had one person who talked to me, though. He didn't come everyday, but he worked for the orphanage. When I was feeling down, he did not try to console me. When I came to him bruised, he didn't try to stand up for me. But he talked to me, teaching me few things about this and that, making me feel better with just his words. I don't know how it got there, but as the time passed, I couldn't live without him. I was still a little boy, just an eight year old, who had a strange fascination over a grown man. He wanted me to take care of a newcomer – I did. He wanted me to smile – I did. Had he ever wished for me to jump off the roof – I'd surely have done that. His word became a law to me, while I perceived him almost God. It felt like I was bound to him with a metal rope, that was larger than my whole body. Years passed. I still was fascinated with him. One day I found him dead. He laid on the floor in the pool of blood, a simple knife in between his ribs. Some boys from my group got expelled from the orphanage. It was them, who killed him. Probably just for the sake of hurting me, for I became immune to their fights and mockeries. I saved the knife they killed him with. Years went by, I became the leader of my own 'family'. I didn't know why they had chosen me as their head, but I already knew that all this 'family' thing was an act, it was just a play in which some believed, and some knew the truth but acted anyway. I couldn't do much for my 'family'. I just tried to bring something good into their life, like one man once did with mine. I never got rid of the knife. I held it in my hands, touched the blade, and never believed that the man, who had been killed with that knife, did pass away. I sometimes blamed myself. I thought it was me, that should have been killed instead of him. But still I couldn't quite believe he was dead. One can't kill God with a piece of metal, so I thought. It hurt me. So much, I couldn't feel anything for years. I was still obsessed with that man, even though he was dead. Nobody really knew how crazed I became. I did awful things. When I was fourteen, I learned to hold the knife so that I could hurt with it. I wounded one boy, who I knew was at fault for the death of my God, but escaped the punishment. He fell after the very first stab. I thought I killed him, and I ran away, scared. I remember the look on my 'family' faces, when I got back to our room, drained in blood. They never told anyone. I never told anyone. The boy died without regaining consciousness, he had weak health. I killed him. The kill didn't make me feel better, it was in vain. But I couldn't understand it through the prism of my obsession. It happened years ago, but still I can't quite get rid of fear of making this mistake again, and I never truly felt sorry for the boy I killed. At least that was until I grew older and understood the gravity of my mistake. I swore to myself to never forget this lesson, to never... never again let myself lose the one I care for, and bring the chaos to those around me. I thought I loved the man who became a God to me. I was wrong. It's sad that it took so much pain and hurt just to understand the difference between love and obsession. But I've learned to love."_

_ You close your eyes and suddenly hug me tighter._

_ "Do you understand what I'm talking about, Raito? I've learned to love you. I love you, and I will stay with you, for the love I feel makes me confident and strong. It's nothing like the feelings I had for the one I looked at as 'God' back when I was younger. I see myself in you, and I don't want you to suffer all the things I've been through. I want you to love me and be sure that it won't get you in anything bad. And... my secret is that I'm so scared to lose you."_

_ "I won't let you go. But will you... will you teach me? Will you teach me the way I should feel?"_

_ "I can't. Everything is in your hands, Raito. Every little thing depends on you..."_

* * *

Three weeks pass in a flurry of investigation, endless conversations and dreams that hold nothing in them, aside from random talks with L. Three weeks, and Light's condition is worse than it's ever been before. He doesn't see L just in his dreams. He now suffers hallucinations. It's hard to predict when he will see L standing in front of him, or laying beside him, or just walking somewhere in the distance. He knows it's not okay to see such things. But at least as long as he doesn't talk to his own hallucinations, he can be considered sane. At least as long as his hallucinations last for just a few seconds, it's alright.

Light thinks Ryuk knows something. The shinigami definitely knows something, but stays silent, watching him with unusually serious expression in the eyes. It waits for him to ask questions. It waits to crawl beneath Light's skin and see him falling apart.

L waits for him, too. At least he stopped scaring and hurting Light in dreams. He loves Light there. He submits his body to him. And Light still gains pleasure after intercourses in his dreams. He can't understand what L wants from him, though. Sometimes it feels L thinks Light's crazy, but then again, Light deems L crazy for what he does in Light's dreams.

Once again L had become a constant in Light's life. More and more frequent does Light catch himself on talking to L, as if the detective were there. The dreams are not the nightmares anymore. They feel more like a journey. Short journey that lasts for one night, and then Light goes back to his daily routine. He can live with that. It's even quite entertaining. If Light can't stop the dreams, why not gain something from them instead?

He feels a bit threatened that he will grow too accustomed to his dreams, so he visits the cemetery once again, asking L to leave him alone. And when L comes to his dream after, Light locks himself in the bathroom and has a heated conversation with his imaginary/invisible L, almost shouting at him to get out.

August comes and passes, and it's the middle of September when Light's dreams stop completely. It's a miracle in which he doesn't quite believe. It must be a trick. But nights go by and there's no sign of L in his dreams. Two weeks pass like this. L should return, Light knows. Of course he will return, he can't leave Light. Can he? Either way, Light shouldn't be bothered with L's absence, he should feel happy. But, really, why did L decide to leave him in peace so suddenly? Did Light's screams of 'Leave me alone for god's sake' help?

He's not willing to admit this, but he misses the dreams. Kind of. A little bit. Well, at least sex was great. Nothing there to miss, aside from that.

And Ryuk is still suspiciously gloomy and serious.

It's late evening in the end of September, when Light finally decides to have a talk with the shinigami, who's been acting strange for the past two months. Light makes himself comfortable in his office chair and turns to face Ryuk, who stands at his right.

"So?" he begins, looking at the shinigami with a pleasant smile. "How have you been as of lately?"

"Quite puzzled, Raito."

"Really? Would you mind enlightening me?"

"Oh yes, I will," there's a sinister glint in Ryuk's eyes as he leans a bit closer to Light. "But first tell me about your dreams. Do you still have them?"

"No. Why?"

"Hmm..." Ryuk seems to ponder over something in his head, leer growing larger with each second. "It's either a good sign or a bad one. I can't tell yet. As time will pass I'll have my answer anyway, but I need to time everything, if things will turn the worse scenario..." he mutters the last words, saying them more to himself than addressing Light.

"What are you talking about?" the young man frowns, observing shinigami. "So you _do_ know something about my dreams?"

Ryuk looks at him with unblinking stare and then smiles his ugly broad grin.

"Yes. I believe the time has come for us to talk, Raito."


	13. Ch13 Gates

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 13 Gates**

He gazes at the shinigami with patient stare. The hands of his wristwatch tick slowly, and Ryuk hovers above him, silent. Light feels somewhat between anxious and irritated – if shinigami all this time knew what was going on with him, why didn't it tell? On the other hand, Light feels quite intimidated – if Ryuk knows better than himself... doesn't that mean something supernatural is happening to his life? It's okay when 'supernatural' is a notebook which allows to kill people, but this time it must be something else. Maybe it has something to do with the possession? Can it be that all this time he's been possessed? Or is it grudge? Or omen? Ghost? Zombie?!

With every second of Ryuk's silence Light feels his nerves wear thinner. How much more is he willing to wait until he jumps out of his seat and starts shaking Ryuk by the shoulders, hungry for the answer he's been searching for almost a year?

"So?" he finally asks, voice hoarse. "What do I need to know?"

"Heh, impatient, huh? Well..." Ryuk decides to perch on one of the desks, rest his chin on the hand and only then talk further. "Do you remember the day I found you in your bed? You had some kind of weird dream back then."

"Of course I do remember," Light mutters, crossing arms on his chest. Does Ryuk have to remind him about the first time he had an erotic dream with L? "What does this have to do with anything?"

"You see, I was actually going to kill you that time. Had you not woken up the day after I arrived, you'd have been dead by now."

Ryuk says it nonchalantly, as though he's talking about taste of different kind of apples. No, scratch that, were Ryuk talking about apples, he'd be more enthusiastic and empathetic.

So, the shinigami had intentions of killing Light. No reasons to panic, it didn't kill him, right? Light just needs to learn more about Ryuk's reasoning for his intentions, and then he can find a solution, so that the shinigami won't have a desire to kill him in the nearest future.

"Why? Tell me the reason," Light says, his voice calm.

"The reason... That's the hardest part of it. As I remember, I told you about my realm, didn't I?"

"You did not. You mentioned it couple of times, but you never talked further."

"You, Raito, as a human being you are, have no need to know anything that pertains _our_ realm. But thing that's been happening to you lately makes me actually want to tell you some facts about the world I came from. It's just we have rules, and I can't really tell you much, even if want to." Ryuk shots him an amused glance. "Do you get my idea yet?"

"No. What the hell, Ryuk, straight up already. You only babble, and sway around the subject. If you can't tell me, why did you mention it at the first place?"

"Oh. Alright, if one vague hint is not enough for you, I may drop some more, so you can figure out everything yourself," the shinigami cackles, obviously glad he managed to turn a serious conversation into a game. "Let's see... Hm... In _my_ realm I am free. In my realm I value Time, for Time is something that we can't control, much as you, human kind. Time lives as it wants, it changes how it wants, and Time remains same for us. _My_ Time and _your_ Time are different concepts, however. There's also thing you call Space, and space is a very loose concept for my realm, unlike Time. At least we can control Space in some way. And what do you think happens, when you hover over Space, having no control over Time?"

Ryuk watches him, eyes intent and glistening in the darkened room.

"If I had no spacial restrictions, I could travel wherever I want, but I'd lost my time all the same. Is this what you're trying to tell me? That you can teleport or something?"

"You're being dense, Raito. Think. You got one thing correct, though. It is true that I can travel, teleport if you wish. But only in _my realm_. Plus, teleportation has little to do with what I'm trying to tell you."

"You keep stressing that all of this happens in your realm. Should I make my assumptions from here? That your realm has something to do with me?"

"Yes and no. Think, Raito. My realm, your realm. If I were you, I'd already guess what I'm talking about."

The shinigami obviously thinks its work is done here, as it starts munching on apple, staring at Light all the time.

But what on earth Ryuk wants him to understand? Light may be genius, but even he can't figure out everything from the shinigami's vague words. He should just sort the information Ryuk told him, this should help a little bit.

So, there's a world of death gods. Ryuk told that that world has some rules and restrictions that forbid the death gods tell much to humans. It also has no space limits, but has some timeframes. According to Ryuk, time for the death gods and time for humans is a different concept. Death gods also have an ability to travel between realms. And? What all this has to do with Light's dreams? He obviously misses some clues, vital ones. And why did Ryuk emphasize his realm so much?

"Ryuk," Light says, glancing at the shinigami. "You never told me about one thing. How exactly do you travel between realms? How did you manage to come from your realm to mine?"

"Ah, I see you're starting to think in the right direction!" the shinigami appears over-excited, so it almost spits apple juice on the young man. "Well, Raito, there are Gates in my realm, which allow any of my kind to go almost wherever they wish."

"Including human world? But can the shinigami affect human mind in some way? Do they have an ability to influence psych?"

"Nah, you're being wide of the mark."

"Is it possible for human to become shinigami after death?" Light asks the question, that's been on his mind from the very beginning.

Ryuk smiles at him, and slowly shakes his head.

"It has nothing to do with what we're talking about. It's not the gods of death or our realm you should think about."

"I see," he says slowly. "Your realm, hm... How many realms are there at all, Ryuk?"

The shinigami chokes on the apple core and coughs dramatically, obviously making a show. Light almost rolls his eyes, waiting for Ryuk to quit fooling around.

"I thought you'd never ask me the right question! Well, not today at least," the death god grunts. "Here comes the revelation, Raito. None of us knows how many realms there are. There is my realm, and there is yours. But then again, there is slightly different version of my realm, just like there's different version of yours. And the different versions have another versions, while another versions have more versions, and it goes on and on! You see, Raito, that's what I was talking about. Death gods can control Space within two realms – our own and yours. But we have no power over Time and Space in another realms."

Light looks at the excited shinigami, his brow arched sceptically.

"So, you were trying to tell me this? Then you should know, Ryuk, that multiverse theory is rather popular in _my realm_. And I still have no idea what this all has to do with my _dreams_."

Ryuk lets out some kind of cluck before leaning alarmingly close to Light's face.

"Can't you understand? The dreams that you have are nothing but the glimpses of the different you, who lives in the different world. And the detective you see in your dreams is not the one you used to know, but a version of him."

It takes Light five seconds to get the meaning of Ryuk's words. But can it be real? If god of death tells him it _is_ real, it should be. Even though, there's only one thought in Light's mind – impossible.

"It hardly seems true..." he finally says. Light's heart beats faster than it should, and he doesn't exactly like this. "Things L said in my dreams were much what he could tell me in reality... If we were that close, I mean. My dreams are just dreams, nothing more."

"Do you think he visits you in your dreams to go all lovey-dovey with you?" Ryuk laughs, and Lights feels like punching the damned god of death. "You can be such a fool at times, Raito. Your detective boy is dead, he can't come to you in any form, even if he wished. You gave him one way ticket, ya know?"

"I never said I gave any meaning to all these dreams. And why are you so sure that it's the other world that I see there? What if all of this, is just the work of my imagination?"

"Nah, it's the different realm you see there. Remember you said you couldn't control any of your actions or feelings in your dream? That's because when you fall asleep, you see through the eyes of your twin, and you say words he says there, and you do things he does, and you feel what he feels. The other you shouldn't be very different from you here, it's the happenings in his life that differ him from you. And you can tell the same about that detective guy – he's almost the same as he used to be here," Ryuk tells Light in merry voice. "Remember you told me about you very first dreams? Those, where you stood on a platform for all day and waited for something? It alarmed me back then, because the platform you saw and the feelings you had, seemed suspiciously like the Mu. In other words, every time you fell asleep – you almost died. You saw the place where you should spend the eternity, but you saw it while being alive."

"And what does that mean?" his voice gives a little squeal. He can't control it anymore. Bad sign.

"You should have died the first time you saw your Mu. You didn't. Why it turned out this way is a conundrum. I was sure you'd die in your dream, in your Mu, sooner or later, that's why I visited you, when your sleep lasted for over two days. But instead of dying you somehow went through Space and Time in your dreams. You've probably seen the memories of your twin over the last few years."

"I had dreams almost every night... As of late I even started to have some strange hallucinations..."

"They were not the hallucinations. You saw through the eyes of your counterpart."

"But if I can see through his eyes, is it possible that he sees through mine?"

"He should. He probably looks through your eyes right now, and hears every word we say."

"Wouldn't it affect him somehow? He should think he's insane."

"Do _you_ think you are insane because of your dreams? When he looks through your eyes, he has same thoughts as you, he feels what you feel. Thus, he believes in everything you do or say, thinking that all of this is perfectly normal."

He suddenly remembers L's tears and half-eaten fingers. L probably thinks he's insane there. It's a miracle L stays with him there. L probably...

"But back to business, Raito," the shinigami tells him, interrupting Light's thoughts. "Your condition is getting worse with every day. It wasn't okay that you didn't die, but now that you can even see glimpses of the other world, I don't want to risk it. Right now you seem to live somewhere in between the two worlds, and the biggest problem is that one day you won't wake up from your dream _here_. You will stay there, in the other world, your soul merged with the body of your counterpart. And when this happens, you'll die in this world. And it will surely happen, because you want it to happen. You like the life you live there."

"I don't want this to happen!" he grips the armrests of his chair so tightly, that skin whitens on his knuckles. "I'm happy here, I am almost God here, I have everything I've ever wished for! I don't want to die! I don't want to die..."

"But you _do_ want to live in the other realm, don't try to fool me, Raito. If you didn't want, then your will would shut the Gates you opened accidentally. The trick is, the change of the realms can happen only when you are asleep. So, I think it's better for me to take your life away before it's too late and you escaped to the other world. Because, as you might have understood, I have no access to the world your twin lives in."

"But I haven't been having this kind of dreams for the last two weeks! Maybe I managed to shut the Gates? I can live normally here," his eyes hurt with the strain while he looks at the shinigami. "I don't suffer any hallucinations either."

"Or maybe something happened to your counterpart, that he chose to see the life through your eyes and live in your body? How can you be sure?"

"Nothing happened. If it did, I would have seen it in my dreams, wouldn't I?"

"Who knows... You don't see every day of your life there, do you?"

Light stays silent. He haven't had a single dream for the last two weeks. And if he thinks about it... didn't his dreams stop after he yelled at L to get out of his life? And maybe... maybe the borderline between his life here and his life there had become so thin, that L there actually heard his words and took them seriously? And if that's the truth, his other self must have chosen to stay in Light's real world in order to escape the inevitable pain.

Oh God. He managed to fuck up relationship while not even being there. He's probably deemed insane by everyone in the other world. And L probably suffers their break off. Does it mean Light will never see him again? Did they really part ways even in the other realm? And what should he do now?

It suddenly dawns on Light that he stresses out about some weird relationship that was not even his own to start with. It's probably better for his counterpart to live without L. Light lives here without the freak, and he's just fine. And more so, he should be more concerned with the crazy shinigami that wants to kill him, than with the broken hearts of his and L's other selves in the different realm.

"Give me time, Ryuk," Light says quietly. "I'll show you that I am strong enough to not let anything interfere with my life."

"Hm... Alright. I will watch you, Raito. And if the day you won't wake up for too long will come, I'll write your name in my death note. That's been the part of our deal."

"Agreed."

* * *

"I should have stayed with him. He is sick. He didn't really mean what he said."

"You did a right thing. Do not regret it."

"I second guess myself as of lately."

"You shouldn't. Look at yourself – he bruised you. He's been violent for the past year. If you stayed with him, everything could end up much worse. Why didn't you try to show him some resistance?"

"I did, and it didn't worth it. He can't be blamed for what he does when he's not in his right mind."

"The boy is insane. Crazy."

"I still have a hope his sanity will return. I still believe he will heal."

"Set it aside. Busy yourself with work. You've been unproductive because of him. And, by the way, there's someone I wanted you to meet with. I'm quite sure he will make you feel better."

Better? He doubts something can make him feel better. He betrayed himself. He left Light just because of few harsh words. And he still has a hope... Shock treatment... Can his act be considered as such? Maybe? It's hard to leave everything he's become so accustomed to.

"You are right. I should forget about everything."

"Yes. Good," the old man nods and smiles at him. "How much time do you need?"

"Not much. I will get my things and be back."

"Then why don't you take a flight with me? Plane takes off at eight."

"Understood."

* * *

_Bed sheets still bear the scent of your skin. Your coffee steams in your mug on the table, waiting for its owner to take a sip, and it's the first time that my own coffee has no smell or taste. Outside world keeps living, something's going on every second, while I measure those seconds with cigarettes. I still haven't quit smoking, even though you asked me several times. Maybe you did love me, if you cared for my health. _

_ Bed sheets still have your hair on them. I still have our dreams and little moments saved in memory. It's still hard not to worry if you are okay. I worry for you. You were not right telling me I was obsessed. Because right now I want to pray for you, not to you. Pray for all the sadness and misery to pass by you. Best if every sorrow and grief that's meant for you, fall on me. I don't want your wind rose to bear any blackness. _

_ And this room... this is the room where I held your fingers and stroked them fervently for the first time. Walls can't hurt, but I feel beaten with the memories they bear. I want to run. I want to throw my body outside, wild and crazy with the desperation flowing through my every pore. _

_ Love... My love was a heavy weight for you to carry, and it probably still hangs on you, bending your spine down. _

_ The sun is shining so brightly into my window. It feels weird not to know where you are or whom you're with. _

_ I know some people betray their love for clink of coins and eulogies of fame. It feels weird that no other sound, but the sound of your voice makes me happy. _

_ It's been only a week since you went away without telling me anything. I just woke up at the empty house, and you never returned. I tried searching for you. I knew it was hopeless, but I tried. I knew if you went away – you won't come back, but I wanted to at least know the reason. _

_ All in vain._

* * *

Past days are one big blur for Light. The conversation with Ryuk seems nothing but a weird dream now – it can't be possible that there's indeed some other world in which he lives happily with L. No, in which he _lived_ happily. It doesn't matter now. It's all in the past. He doesn't have such dreams anymore. He even doubts if he ever had those dreams. Because everything is fine right now. He works. He eats. He talks. He sleeps. And nothing else happens to him.

Boring.

Days form into weeks, which drag slowly and uneventfully. Weeks soon become months. How many months have passed since he last had a dream? When was the last time he saw L? Was it in July or was it August?..

February. Valentine's day. Misa buys some dope chocolates for him. Once again he says he loves her. Could the anger smother that last thing in him, that wasn't meant to lie? It's okay that he fucks her this night. And her skin is white. And if not for her blond hair, and narrow shoulders and too round bum, she could look like L from behind. It doesn't matter anyway. It's good that he doesn't see, or hear, or feel L anymore.

Smoking did form a bad habit for him. His twenty second birthday he meets at the balcony of his apartment, looking into distance, Ryuk sits on the railing beside him. He is happy. World lays beneath his feet, sparkling and open. And he is God.

Another spring, another summer. He tries to remember the smell of L's skin. He fails. Why does he even bother?

He thought L would never let him go. That L, somehow, needed Light for whatever reason. And there was a time Light thought he will never be free until he left L behind. Though he did believe (and lied to himself) that freedom was in the heart of the beholder.

There's probably no other world and there's never been. And Ryuk just wanted to mess with him, taunt him with the chances of another life. Chances? Who needs them, really. It's not like he ever wished to live the other life.

He writes few names in the death note every now and then. It's ridiculous that people still murder and spoil other lives. Can't they understand that there's someone who watches over them?

Another day, another night. And one more day. And few more weeks.

September. It's raining this night. Light hates rain. And Misa's body snuggled close to him is not welcome. And Ryuk is out, skimming through the night thunder sky. And Light needs to sleep. Tomorrow he should visit his parents house with Misa.

He closes his eyes, listening to the dull rain outside. He really hates rainy nights.

* * *

___My heart jumps straight to my throat and starts beating there at a frantic pace. Repeated 'thud-thud' against the back of my throat make me want to vomit. I see you. I didn't think I would. I really wish I didn't._

___ You look... normal. Same hair, same posture, same eyes. The only thing that's different are your clothes. Not like it matters anyway. _

___ I should look away, I know, but I can't bring myself to tear my eyes off of you. Beautiful. Always so ethereal and elusive, you somehow seem real at this moment. The way your absentminded smile's tugging at the corners of your lips, your gaze that's focused solely on the one you are talking to. The one that holds your hand securely and you don't try to bat that hand away, like you used to do with mine when we were on public. _

___ My heart long since regained it's rightful place in my chest and continues to beat there, but I still feel like throwing up at any moment. You smile again, and then you laugh, you actually laugh. Your eyes scrunches at the corners and you bring your hand to cover your mouth and prevent snickers of amusement spill from your lips. _

___ It's such a rare sight. For me at least. _

___ I finally look away, glancing at the cell phone I'm still clutching in my hand. Does it even matter whom I've been talking to before I saw you? I snap the phone closed and try to place it the pocket. My hands are shaking._

___ You're still there when I dare to look up once again. Sitting at the table, an ice-cream before you. Vanilla, strawberry and grape. Your favorite trio. It's funny how you can mess me up beyond all recognition and stay yourself in every little aspect. It's funny how I want to break your neck, yell at you, and hug you tightly, all at once. _

___ Five minutes pass. You notice me. I think you're faking surprise. You've seen me all that time I've spent staring. You wave a hand at my direction, and smile a small but fake smile. You obviously want me to join you and your interlocutor. Are you being oblivious or sadistic? Probably former. You never loved me enough to actually wish to cause me pain now. _

___ He turns and looks at me, our eyes interlocking for the first time. His face is just a blur. I feel nothing as I make my way towards your booth and shake his hand in form of appropriate greeting. It's not as awkward as I thought it would be; you make a small introduction for both of us. "A friend of mine," you tell him. A lie. I never wanted to be friends with you, and most certainly I'm not a friend now. Never have been._

___ You are talking with him now and I smile when you two are laughing at some inside joke. He is a good person. I can already tell that much. You mentioned his name, but I didn't care to remember it, I probably won't see him again. In my head I decide to call him Tadao ____**[*]**____, this name kind of suits him. Somehow, he reminds me of you, in some weird ways. They say that if you love, you start to take after each other. Maybe that's the reason. _

___ "Raito-kun? Are you feeling alright? You don't seem yourself..." you say and I realize I've been staring off in space for a while. I don't seem myself, you say... What am I then?_

___ "I'm sorry, I guess I zoned out a little." I let a careless chuckle escape my lips, and turn to look at you. "Eru, might I have a word with you?" I can't take this. I want to talk to you. I want you back. I want everything._

___ "Eru?" Tadao asks, bewildered. So, he doesn't know your real name. It took me a year to gain enough of your trust to learn such a simple fact about you. _

___ "Ah, that's a nickname," you say, and make it to stand for our leave, when Tadao places a hand at your shoulder._

___ "It's okay, you two talk here. I will wait outside." _

___ He smiles at you, and you return his smile with a nod. Tadao leaves then, walking out of the cafe with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and a careless flip of hair. We both wait till he's out of sight, and then you say without as much as looking at me._

___ "What do you think of him?"_

___ "He seems to be a nice guy. Listen, Eru..."_

___ "It's amusing how your short and unpretentious description fits Brandon. He's nice."_

___ You're still not looking at me, fiddling with a mess that's left in your ice-cream bowl._

___ "Yeah... I guess." _

___ "So?"_

___ "Er... How have you been?" I ask, suddenly uncomfortable with your coldness. _

___ "Splendid."_

___ "Really?"_

___ "Yes." you say and then finally look me in the eyes. "You should hurry up, Raito-kun. I believe we don't have all day to wait when you are ready to tell what you wanted."_

___ I stay silent for a couple of minutes, looking numbly at the table. I feel your piercing gaze on me. I can tell you're growing tired of all this._

___ "I want you back." I finally manage to utter. "I want back all that we had. I want you to be happy. With me."_

___ "I am happy." Yes, you are._

___ "No."_

___ "Raito, you're being unreasonable. It's almost been a year and you..."_

___ "I know. What do you think, I haven't been counting the fucking days since you left without so much as a decency to tell me the reason? That I could throw it all away and happily go on with my life, like you did? Do you have any idea how many times I tried to find you?" I spat these words, for a moment not caring what you'll think of me. It feels good to tell you all this, to splash my resentment. _

___ I catch my breath and look at you. Your eyes are empty. _

___ "I'm sorry." you say and I know you're not apologizing. You feel sorry for me._

___ "No... It's not... It's not like that. I didn't mean to tell you all this." I bury my face in my hands. It all went wrong. I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I want you to be with me. "I miss you so much..." I whisper before I can stop myself._

___ "Everything will be fine eventually..." you say quietly, and then lean closer, for me to hear next words. "I'm sorry, Raito-kun. I thought you knew why I left you."_

___ "No, I didn't. I still don't." I'm biting my tongue now, trying to prevent tears that are about to spill down my face._

___ "Don't you remember? You wanted me to leave you. You asked me to stay away from your life."_

___ "Oh, god, I didn't mean it! I'm so sorry, Eru, please, please forget what I said then. Let's... let's be together again? You will live with me in our house, and I will buy you muffins for breakfast, like I used to. We will go out for walks at weekends, and I will be there for you, I will never hurt you or let you go again, I promise."_

___ I look at you hopefully, but all I see in your eyes is pity._

___ "You can't revive something that is dead."_

___ "I love you."_

___ "These words won't do any magic. Nothing will change."_

___ "Please... Eru. I love you. Give us a chance."_

___ "No, Raito. Please, stop it. It is really unnerving to see you act so pathetic. Don't ruin your image for me, I want to remember you like you used to be."_

___ "I'm not who I used to be. It's nothing but a memory now."_

___ "I love this memory. Don't ruin it like you did with us."_

___ "If you come back to me, I will be myself again."_

___ "No, Raito." You say and smile. "It's not about me, it's about you. If you hadn't changed then, I wouldn't have left you."_

___ "..." For a moment I'm at loss of words. _

___ No. I hadn't changed then. I got fucked up after you. All this mess is your fault. _

___ "Right. Yeah, right." I nod a couple of times. "It's always about me."_

___ You look at me and say nothing. I'm so sick of your games, why do you expect me to know exactly what you feel or think about something? I'm not a psychic. I do love you, but it doesn't mean I can read your mind._

___ "You still don't understand... It's a pity, Raito. I hoped you would get it eventually."_

___ "What I should have understood? Tell me. For fuck's sake, straight up for once." _

___ The cafe's door opens and Tadao... Brandon walks in, smiling timidly and waving a hand._

___ "Have you finished?" he asks you and flashes a smile at me._

___ "Yes. We are done." you say and stand up, glancing at me for the last time. "I hope to see you again someday, Raito-kun."_

___ I hope you change your mind this last second and stay with me._

___ "Goodbye." you say softly and I watch you walk away. He's holding your hand and I feel like shooting him in his back._

___ But you look happy right now. And, probably I should feel happy for you, too. Only I don't._

___ At home I take off my shoes, feeling much more worn than they are. This world... people, feelings, you got me worn out. _

___ I make so much noise rummaging through the drawers in a small storage, trying to find the pieces of memory I saved just in case. Ten minutes later I finally fish out a big but simple wooden box. It's old and shabby, I used to store my butterfly collection in there when I was a child. There are no butterflies now. It's filled with useless things that you collected when we were together. A red scarf, an empty bottle of my cologne, a locket with a lock of your hair inside of it, two photos of us lying on the carpet in the living room, a dried-out rose, a feather grass, gracefully tied up by a black silk ribbon. Lots and lots of things, mostly useless clutter that somehow manages to revive memories of you. I should throw it all into the trash. _

___ Finally I find the things I've been looking for – a pallet of paint and the painting of you in the early morning spring park. I didn't have a chance to finish it the day we had a walk there, but I made sure it looked perfect two weeks later. _

___ I drag the painting out the very bottom of the box and wipe the dust out of it with the back of my hand. It's been two years since I drew it... The paint is still vibrant and bright. _

___ There's a very dim light in the storage, so I take the painting and the pallet with me, walking out of the small room and towards the bedroom. I flop on the floor there, holding the picture tightly and staring at it, taking in every detail. _

___ It still looks perfect, just as I planned. You stand out amongst the scenery, looking somewhere with dreamy eyes. The bright red scarf hangs loosely around your neck, accentuating the paleness of your skin. Everything around you is blurry and lit with light, trees and sky almost colourless. But you are different. This image of you still manages to make me hold my breath and gape in awe. I've never been good at drawing, but this picture is not about the skill or quality, it's the atmosphere that makes it so unique. Or may be, it's the memories that I have, make this otherwise simple picture a piece of art for me. _

___ I don't know how much time I've spent looking at the drawing, at you. Still mesmerized, I finally glance away from your face in the picture, and take a black paint from the pallet in one hand and a brush in the other. _

___ First stroke - and the sky above you turns black. Second stroke – and your hair dissolves in the sky. Third – and all that's left of your face are your lips._

___ I continue to cover the drawing with black paint, doing it meticulously and counting every stroke of the brush. It takes only three minutes and exactly forty two strokes to make the whole painting black. That is it. I erased you. There's nothing left. Nothing ever happened between you and I. I didn't draw you. I didn't say loving words and you didn't listen to me. We didn't love. Nothing ever mattered. Nothing ever happened. There were no you. And there's no me. _

___ My misery soon will dull, and then I won't ever think of you again. And maybe just a vague memory of something long past will come to me, sometime, maybe._

___ But right now I feel no pain. I briefly wonder if that's because that kind of hurt can't possibly exist, but toss this thought aside. I need to discard of all the trash you picked up while you and I were together. _

___ So I stand up, crumple the black canvas in my hands and throw it into the bin. _

___ I think I finally got what you wanted me to understand._

* * *

"I'm sorry I made you do this."

"No need to apologize. But are you sure it was helpful? He didn't seem like he was doing well when I returned."

"That was for the best."

"You never told me about him."

"You don't need to know."

"Still, I don't think it did him good. What if he gives up?"

"He won't. I know him. He will never give up that easily. He will find a way."

"Hm... Well, you know better. Let's get back to business. There's one thing I wanted to show you..."

* * *

___The ____dawn should be coming soon. _

___ I stand here, on the rooftop, near the very edge. The world is quiet and colored in pinkish hues of the raising sun. Sparrows fly racing past me, twittering with joy, and I stand here, looking at the city beneath. I certainly didn't come here to jump. I know I won't ever make a step into thin air. It's scarier than I thought, far more scarier. Pavement below seems so very distant, even if I'm looking at it from only fifth floor height. It looks like it would be painful to land._

___ My head hurts and limbs shake with tremor, and I just stand, praying for the wind to help me and push me forward, but the gusts are too weak. _

___ The sun has risen, and I stand like a stuffed dummy, unmoving and silent. You are happy. We are done, you said. It's always astounded me how you can say simple things, that are killing in their nature. You have this ability, probably just because you don't talk much in general._

___ Someone screams with terror, and my legs push themselves forward. I take a step, slip, my shoe strikes an iron sheet beneath, and before I can process it, I hang suspended in the air, clenching the roof edge desperately. And it's immediately that I realize I won't ever let go of it. Even if I hang here for too long, even if I grow tired. _

___ My heart beats fast and frantic. I pull myself up, and fall heavily onto the roof with my chest. Palms are burning and bleeding, something runs down my leg, I feel my sock getting soaked in that something. I am a coward, I know. I lay here and hate myself, the edge of the roof sticks in under my ribs, and sun heats scorchingly. _

___ I lay still for some time, calming myself and trying to think of what should I do to get you back. Maybe we should just talk again. You couldn't forget me after only a year._

___ Yes. I will pull myself all the way up right now, and then I will try to find you. _

___ I claw with my fingers, trying to throw my leg onto the edge of the roof. Metal sheet slips under my palms and I fall down. _

___ In a curt moment before I hit the ground I remember that it was raining the night before. The roof was too slippery for me to crawl up._

* * *

A/N:

**[*] **- Tadao means complaisant.

The next chapter will also be the last one. Thank you for reading.


	14. Ch14 Change

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters.**

**Ch. 14 Change**

"What... what are you doing, Ryuk?"

Misa's voice sounds anxious. She stares at the shinigami, who stands beside the bed her Light lays upon. He fell asleep yesterday and still didn't wake up. He's probably overworked himself yet again. It's late in the evening, and it's been exactly nineteen hours of Light's sleep. He will wake up soon. He will.

"Hm?" Ryuk spares her a glance and doesn't utter a sound more. Misa watches the death god to take off the ground and dissolve through the ceiling.

"Wait!" she screams belatedly, reaching out with her hand. It's no good. The shinigami was holding the death note in his hands. He looked at Light's sleeping form with some strange glint in his eyes. If Misa didn't know better, she'd think that he was planning to kill her love. But Ryuk can't kill Light for just falling asleep. It's ridiculous.

"Ryuk..." she whispers.

The thought of losing Light is scary and preposterous. Light can't die. Ryuk can't kill him. But the anxiousness squeezes her chest in the most excruciating manner. It's suddenly hard to breath. And it's so cold here. Her fingers are numb.

She feels scared. The fear of something bad, that's foreboding inescapably twists her guts.

Misa flops on her knees beside the bed, shaking Light's shoulders, poking him and then punching her little fists against his chest, whispering his name over and over, panicked and terrified.

"Wake up, please, wake up," she begs now.

What should she do? She feels like praying, but what god can help her now?

Pleas fall from her lips, she shakes Light by the shoulders in vain attempts to make him open his eyes. She doesn't notice the death god that appears behind her back.

"He won't wake up," Ryuk drawls, hands hanging down his sides. There's no expression on his face. Just a grotesque smile that looks ill-placed and perverted at the moment. "Raito's dead."

"He's not," she objects, voice firm. She doesn't turn around to glance at the shinigami, and keeps looking at Light's peaceful features. "He's just sleeping."

"Really?" Ryuk smirks. "Why won't you look at him through the shinigami's eyes? See, there's nothing above his head."

She stays silent. Ryuk watches her with half-hearted interest, observing the way her shoulders tremble, and fingers clutch the handful of Light's shirt.

"It was you..." she finally says, still not looking at the shinigami. "Why did you do this? He couldn't die just like that. He had plenty of life span. Why did you kill him?!" her voice squeals unpleasantly and Ryuk winces at the loud sound.

"It was a part of our deal," the death god says and shrugs. "But Raito fooled me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I warned him that it would be me, who would kill him eventually. He knew it and he accepted the deal. And I warned him that his dreams would have him dead one day, even though his life span showed that he had a long life ahead. Just so he won't die before I wrote his name in my death note, we came to the arrangement that when his sleep lasts for too long yet again, I have the right to kill him. So..." Ryuk makes a helpless gesture. "I wrote his name in my death note. But he managed to die before the death note kicked in. I was... late with my actions. When I wrote his name, Raito already had less than twelve minutes to live. To tell the truth, I'm confused and a bit angered at Raito right now. It wasn't fair of him." **[*]**

"What?.." Misa asks, finally turning her head to look at the shinigami.

It appears she didn't understand a thing from what Ryuk told her. She still clutches desperately onto Light's shirt, not willing (or unable) to let go.

"Ah, it doesn't matter now. He's dead. What will you do is a far more interesting matter."

"I don't know..." she says quietly, laying her head onto Light's chest. "I... I want to stay with him."

"Will you pretend to be Kira?"

"I don't know..."

She whispers, nuzzling into the slowly growing cold body. Ryuk watches her for few long moments before turning his back.

"Wait, Ryuk," Misa calls out quietly. "I want to go away with Raito."

"Huh? Are you suggesting for me to kill you?" Ryuk's grin widens.

"Yes," she smiles gently, stroking Light's chest with her fingers tenderly. "Take my life."

"Er... Right now?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? I mean, it's not hard to do for me, but don't you want to do something before you die? Like live a life? Or at least write some letter for the rest of your humans?"

"I won't write anything... If they want to know, they will find out themselves. But... you are right. I want Raito and myself to be pretty," she lets out a small chuckle. "I'll dress him in his best suit. And I will wear the dress he likes on me. They will find us here, and they will bury us together, and Raito and I will fly to Heaven... He'll meet my parents there, and we will live happily ever after."

Ryuk watches Misa mutter nonsense, his grin twitching at the corners. Girl has gone mad. She wants to toy with Light's dead body, she wants to make a show out of their deaths. It's sickeningly entertaining.

"Don't want to let ya down, but they will probably cremate both of you. And, just so ya know before you're dead, Heaven is... a slightly overrated around human beings."

She doesn't seem to listen.

"Just wait a bit, okay? I'll have to make preparations, and then you can betroth us in death."

She scrambles at her feet hurriedly and dashes into the dressing room. Ryuk waits for at least an hour till Misa's ready, and then watches how she smoothes Light's hair gently. He lays on the bed, still and pale, dressed in a black suit. Ryuk looks into his dead face and smirks under his breath. _'You, human... You are the most intriguing thing I've ever met in my life. It's a pity I can't visit you there. There could be so much fun to watch you further...'_

"I'm ready, Ryuk," Misa calls out for him quietly. She lays beside Light, snuggled close to him, clutching his arm. Her eyes are dark with the abundance of make up, and she wears the black dress. It's a ridiculous sight for Ryuk, to watch them both dressed in mourning, laying on the bed.

"Humans are indeed the funniest of beings," the shinigami mutters and smiles at Misa. "It was a nice time I had around you two. But everything has to come to its end. Farewell."

He writes her name in his death note, right below Light's name, and exits the bedroom, leaving Misa to await her death. Well, now he just needs to pick up their death notes, and he's free to go back into the shinigami realm. He still feels quite uncertain about the end of these lives, but... He gained what he wanted. Light escaped his clutches, but it doesn't make all the story less entertaining.

Ryuk doesn't look back as he takes off the ground and flies into the night sky. Maybe he will come back someday. Maybe.

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Is it time to wake up already?.. His eyelids feel heavy, and lashes stick to each other, making it hard to open his eyes. The annoying beeping at the background makes him frown. Why won't Misa turn the alarm clock off?

Light opens his eyes slowly. Clean white ceiling greets his sight. He lays on the cot and the beeping sound he hears is not the alarm, but the heart monitor. Just great. He's in the hospital yet again. And this time doctors won't leave at peace his case of abnormally long sleep.

Light sighs and looks around with unimpressed face. Small ward, much like the one he stayed in the previous time he was hospitalized. He sighs, and the sudden pain that surges through his body makes him cringe. It's then that he notices bandages that cover most of his body - shoulders, arm, chest, and upper part of left leg. He can barely move with these plaster casts on his limbs.

What the... He was in one piece when he fell asleep. Is it possible that things that happen in his dreams, his other self, now affect him in the real world? The idea seems ludicrous. But... if he's hospitalized, it means he's been unconscious for at least couple of days. What happened to Ryuk's threat to kill him?

Door of his ward creaks and slides opened, presenting a middle-aged woman in doctor smock. She gives him a curt smile.

"I see you are awake. How do you feel?"

"I've been better," he answers, laying helpless and immobile.

"Before we continue I have to ask you some questions. Do you think you can endure a conversation?"

Light nods.

An hour later he still can't really believe in what's happening. He's dead. He died in the real world, in his world that he's been building anew for the past five years. And he didn't simply die, no, he now has to live in some other parallel realm. There are things and questions in his mind that he wants to ask, but there's no one, who can give him answers.

First of all – why did he die? He wasn't ill, he didn't have a weak heart or any other disease or disorder that could make him pass away spontaneously. Second, why didn't Ryuk kill him? The shinigami should have seen the signs of his upcoming death, shouldn't he? Damn. Light should have asked Ryuk if the numbers of his life span changed during his sleep. And third, and the most important – what should he do now? He obviously didn't lose his memories of the death note and all the things that happened to him. He's stuck in the world of his 'dreams'. He's obviously left all alone here. And doctors think he was trying to commit a suicide, though he knows for sure that the fall from the roof was an accident.

Damn it. Is it possible for him to return to his real world? Because the situation his counterpart dragged himself in, in this world, is just miserable. From what Light knows from his own dreams, in this world he's considered insane by L, and a junkie by everyone else. He has no friends, no work, nothing aside from the small house and some founds L left him with before walking away. Needless to say, Light doesn't have the death note now, so the reason he still has his memories is another riddle. His world... is somewhere out of reach now. The world he was trying to purify so hard. People, whom he protected, for whom he sacrificed himself, and who had their faith in him, are left living on their own. All of his work, his whole life, all of it is meaningless now. And the life without a purpose is worse than death. Perhaps, Ryuk wasn't right saying Light had managed to escape his Mu. Perhaps, this place is the Mu, for there's nothing for him to strive for.

Light wants to clutch handfuls of his hair and maybe even punch the wall with his fist, but he's unable to move. Doctor said he was lucky to remain alive. She said he's been through clinical death. She said he got away with few broken bones and concussion. She said he was lucky to bump his head into the bushes and not smash it against the hard ground. Lucky, she said.

Ryuk was right about Time moving differently in other realms. It's spring here. March, to be exact. The hospital staff didn't intend to keep him in their ward for long, so it's early April when he returns to his new home. He still has to use pair of crutches to walk, but at least there's no insufferable pain in his shoulders and sides anymore. He tries to find a way to return to his realm. He thinks of it everyday, he wants to have his world back so badly. But there's no escape, and he knows it. Just like in his previous world he couldn't open the Gates whenever he wanted, he can't open them here.

Well... He needs to start life anew, it seems. And as time passes, Light learns (with some surprise) that he's able to move on without knowing the rules of this new world. And apparently he even still has some 'friends'. At least Matsuda (or the version of him) came to visit Light back when he was in hospital. The man showered him in profound excuses for the fight they had long time ago, and even brought him tangerines and some bobtailed bouquet of flowers.

Light feels a bit sorry for his behavior back then, because... well, he wasn't acting exactly polite and grateful. Honestly, how was he supposed to react? He just lost his own life, and, clearly, he wasn't in the mood for listening to some dumb excuses he didn't care about. But in the end it was Matsuda, who helped him to settle down in this new life. It was Matsuda, who persuaded Light's father to listen to what his son's got to say, so that Light could reestablish his relationship with his own family. And it was Matsuda, who eventually helped Light to get the job at the NPA.

They now work together yet again, only this time Light doesn't hide anything from his co-worker, and this time... this time he can actually feel the sincere warmth for the naïve man. Life is rather boring, but he doesn't have to spend all the times in four walls of his house. He wakes up early in the morning and then rushes to work, and comes back home only at eleven in the evening. At fridays Matsuda, himself and two of their co-workers spend night in the bars, like normal people usually do. Light now knows the menus of at least five nearby drinking establishments.

It's only been three months, but Light already got the promise of the forthcoming promotion. He celebrates it with his now-friend Matsuda, and they drink fifth (or is it seventh?) serve of tequila. It becomes obvious that Matsuda's light-weighted and can't really handle strong drinks, as his left eye seems to close by itself, and his speech becomes slurred. It amuses Light, and he doesn't notice the small silly giggles that escape him, as he looks at his co-worker's reddened cheeks.

"Raito-kun," Matsuda tells him, arms flying around haphazardly. "I think it's time for us to share some manly secrets. Like, you know... manly. You know?"

"Manly?" Light asks, barely restraining his urge to laugh.

"Yep. Like... well, look at you! You were a preppy college boy when I first met you, you graduated your university and got a degree with distinction, but then you went abroad and got yourself into some weird homosexual relationship (no offense, really, Raito-kun, don't get angry, I'm just saying) with some weirdo (I'm just saying), and then you became a loser, you lost everything, and you even jumped off the roof. And then ba-da-bop! You became normal once again! You're now almost the head of our department, and I think you'll become the Chief of NPA in like five years! How is it possible?! How do you do these things?!"

Light almost chokes on the piece of chicken he's eating when the 'weird homosexual' part comes. Right... how could he forget? Matsuda knows L here, they obviously met someday. And he obviously knew about all the 'weird homosexual' thing between them.

Weird homosexual. An image of some muscular, clothed in leather man, who holds whips and chains, comes to Light's mind. He suddenly tries to imagine L or himself dressed like that and ends up having a fit of laughter. Oh god! Matsuda has no clue how his choice of words can affect those around him, seeing that now he looks at Light with some sort of pout on his face.

"Why are you laughing?! I'm talking serious business here, I want to know your secret, Raito-kun."

"Well," Light says, finally recovering from his fit. "What if I tell you I was a God in my past life?"

"No," Matsuda objects sternly, waving a finger before Light's nose. "If you were a God, then you were a shitty one (I'm just saying), because you ended up on Earth nonetheless. I don't think you were a God. Well, but if you had been, then there probably would have been no need in us, policemen, for you'd have been a good kind of god."

"How do you know? Oh, right, I didn't tell you that I was a God of weird homosexuals?"

It's now Matsuda's time to gasp and laugh, and tears of joy run down his cheeks, as he tries to regain at least some of composure.

"God of homosexuals, my ass!" he slaps his palm against the table, seemingly slowly coming down from laughter height. "You can be such a crank, Raito-kun!"

Light smiles and shrugs. There's no need for this version of his former co-worker to know the truth about Light's past. He should keep it a secret. Best to just laugh at immature 'faggot' jokes.

"But seriously now, what I'm trying to say is that you should probably think of making your own family now. You know? Find a girl that you like, marry her, make children, so that uncle Touta can play with them and all. You get my idea?"

"You're older than me," Light remarks, smirking. "I should be the one telling you these things."

"Oh, come on! I need to get a promotion before I get a baby! I can't let my beautiful wife and child live like beggars!"

"You don't even have a wife yet," Light snorts. "And you should make some savings and stop drinking in bars if you don't want your family to be poor."

"Oh geez," Matsuda sighs. "Here you go, lecturing me and acting like a fifty-year-old. And we were talking about you. I think you need to find someone, and I just happen to know this one girl. She likes you. She's seen your photo once, and now she bugs me, asking me to organize a meeting with you."

"You got my photo?"

"Well, you know, the one where you, me and all our chaps are in the office together."

"Oh."

"So? What will you say?" Matsuda appears eager for Light's answer, draining his glass in one gulp.

"I don't think it's the right time for me to be seeing someone. I've just started to make progress at work."

"If not now, when?! You're in the age when you're _supposed_ to have a new girlfriend like every couple of months, looking for the one you can marry to! Or... Oh..." Matsuda breaks off suddenly, looking guilty and uncomfortable. "You're not into girls, are you?"

"W-what?" Light can't help but stutter a bit. "Of course, I am."

"But you know... you were with that guy... So I thought you only like men and it won't work for you with..."

"No, it's nothing like that!" Light interrupts him. The drunken fog in his mind clears a bit. So Matsuda thinks he's genuinely gay? It's somewhat insulting. "It was just an experiment. I was young and I didn't really think it all through, so... In short, I'm not interested in any kind of relationship right now."

"Aha..." Matsuda nods, and it's clear that he didn't believe in Light's words.

"I'm serious."

"You were in relationship with him for three years... And when you two broke off, you spent a whole year depressed and isolated. And then you tried to kill yourself... I'm not trying to offend you, Raito-kun... I want to apologize. I didn't take into account your personal feelings at the moment. It was stupid of me to have this talk with you."

"It's okay now," Light smiles reassuringly. It feels just like talking to Matsuda from his previous world. Because it feels like he's lying once again. "And, just so you know, I didn't really attempt suicide. It was an accident."

"I thought so," Matsuda says and then feigns a laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Of course you're fine now! You just don't have time for relationship."

"My thought exactly," Light smiles curtly once again.

The atmosphere between them seems uncomfortable, and it's soon that they walk out the bar and each go to their home.

Why did Matsuda have to talk with him about L? Light tried so hard not to think about him, not to pay any attention to the fact that L was the first reason he found himself in this parallel realm. Because... it's clear now, that L was the main cause of Light's crossing of Time and Space. It all started with L. And it all ended when L left him. All paths lead to L, and L, L, L everywhere. It was the truth and constant in his previous life, and it seems it remains the same in this life.

Light doesn't even know where L's now. He doesn't even know L's occupation here. Is he still a detective, or is he something else? L never talked about his work in Light's dreams. Probably, it's something clandestine. Probably, L's a detective here, too. Probably, Light shouldn't think about L anymore. Because everytime a mere thought of L causes his heart to fall into the pit of his stomach, and then return to its rightful place in the cage of his ribs, and beat there, and hurt with every thud. It must be some side effects of living in the body of his counterpart. Maybe, it still remembers all that Light's twin's been through with L. But Light's twin is dead now. He probably died after the jump from the roof, leading to Light dying in his world.

All these paranormal happenings are insane. He died in his real world, he died here, but his soul (or whatever it was) went through Time and Space and took residence in the body of himself, who was in state of clinical death in this other realm. Just thinking of that makes him doubt if he's actually sane, or if he simply gone nuts and all of these are his hallucinations and delirium.

But the world around him is painfully real. Everything's real - and his headache in the morning, and the night he spent hugging the cold toilet sink, and the poignant bile that he didn't know he had. Thank god it's weekend.

Light spends his morning in bed, and it's the late afternoon when he decides to finally look around his new house. He never truly searched it through, feeling a tad frightened to find something he won't take a liking on. But, right now he feels he should look through every drawer, every corner that this small building has. And Light knows exactly what he wants to find - the box. The very box he saw in his dream, the one that was filled with clutter L collected while they were together. He... his twin didn't really throw it away, did he?

Twenty minutes later Light finds the large box. He stares at it, examines it, feeling anxious and yet scared to open the lid. It's the very same box Light himself had in the real world when he was a child. Only real Light dumped it when he was fifteen.

Wood feels rough under his fingertips. The light-blue paint peeled off in some places, making the box look rather shabby. Light fiddles with a lock for a minute before he pushes the lid aside and glances at the content of the box. His heart is racing in his chest inexplicably when he fishes out things with cold fingers, one by one.

It all feels so real in his hands... The rose, the scarf, the locket. Light opens the locket carefully, and there it is – a lock of L's hair. He looks at it, breath bated, before he gently strokes the strand with his finger. Soft. His head feels dizzy suddenly, and he realizes he's been holding his breath for too long. Oh god... L and him were indeed together. It's so unbelievable, but he holds the evidences in his very hands.

Light examines the rest of the content, holding every little thing for a couple of minutes in his hands, sometimes sniffing them just to see if he'll catch the smell of L he's grown so used to in his dreams. He finally finds two photos – things, he wanted to see the most. They look so simple and unpretentious, and from the angle it's clear that it was Light, who took the pictures.

On one of the photos L lays beside him on what appears to be the carpet in the living room, he doesn't smile and has his face hidden under his palms, so that the only thing there is to see, is his chin and lower lip, while Light simply smiles at the camera, having his arm around L's shoulders. Light looks at the picture for good five minutes. He looks... happy. He can't remember ever seeing himself at such ease.

The next photo astounds him with the sight of L looking straight into camera and smiling, while Light on the picture pecks him on the cheek.

Light in the real world feels dumbstruck, looking at the photo, unable to tear his eyes off L's smiling face. It looks so weird and fantastic, and wrong and right at the same time, and most of all it's scary. It's scary to see the evidences of feelings he obviously had. He can't really understand what he feels right now – joy, shame or hurt? He never knew emotions could be this strong. He could always control, he's always been in control of his own feelings. But right now it seems that something's overpowered him, for he feels seized with the need to pace around the room, mutter under his breath, bump his head into the wall and pull at his hair.

It was real. All that happened between L and himself in the dreams was real. He couldn't quite believe in it until he got the very evidence of the feelings they had for each other. L did trust him, he did yield to him, and seemingly did love him. And L is alive, must be still alive somewhere.

Light glances at the picture once again. L smiles at him. And Light feels his lips twitch in a weak smile in return. L's always been playful. And the thing he said to Light's version in this world, was not a threat and not a goodbye. It was a challenge. _'I hope to see you again someday.'_

"You will," Light murmurs almost affectionately, gliding his finger down L's face on the photo. "I swear, you will see me again."

* * *

The task of finding L is not the easy one. Couldn't be easy. But he needs to find the detective, Light needs to see him, to look at him, and once again confirm to himself that what they had was the real thing. To face the one, who turned his whole life upside down several times.

And L needs this just as much, for he left obscure, almost non-existent traces. He definitely believed that Light would manage to decipher the clues.

It's still a hard task, even with the small leads that he has. Light has to work on the cases in NPA, but he also has to unravel the web of thin threads, that can lead him to his destiny.

Months pass in a vortex of different events. He gets a promotion, he visits his family in order not to screw things up once again, he still finds and loses the leads of L, he drinks with Matsuda and listens to his complains about life. He even spares time to actually get his body back in shape. And he carries the photo of L in his purse. Just so he won't forget this face ever again.

It's December when Light finally gets to know what he desired so much. L is in Netherlands. He lives there now, or at least he's been living there for the last two years. Is it possible that he retired, or is he just having a break? It doesn't matter. It really doesn't. Soon, Light will find out everything.

* * *

I wonder if you know how it feels when Spring comes in the Winter. How it feels when cold and blizzard seemed so endless, that you thought they would last forever. When you walk down the street, muffled in your coat, cursing everything there is, and then suddenly you feel Spring blooming somewhere deep inside of your heart. It's just like when the sun peeps out behind the clouds. Or when you walk, and there's a trail of green grass, driving out of snow, that you leave behind your steps. Or... I don't really know. But that is how I feel about you. I knew you would come back.

You didn't knock. You came in quietly, almost on tiptoes, and closed the door. You left the storm and white snow behind your back.

And now you stand here, looking at me. And I can't really look anywhere but at you. We both don't know what to say next.

"Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Sure."

You don't really care about the tea.

An old tablecloth covers the table in the kitchen. You watch how I cross the floor, barefoot. And I try to walk as quietly as possible. I feel afraid to wake something inside of you. Something old, long past, but strong and devastative. Something, that took you away from me.

You look somewhere past me, and suddenly I feel scared. It's always been like this with you - your presence made me uncomfortable, while you yourself appeared to come at ease in my company. I still remember how strange it made me feel at first – someone managed to make me feel uneasy, while it's always been me, who made people tense up. I tried to scare you off (and I didn't really do my best, for I was... interested in you) and you remained unfazed.

I still feel strained. But not as much as I was once. Not that kind of awkwardness. There can be countless reasons for this, and I can't put my fingers on one of them with certainty. It just feels different. Something is different. And I feel ashamed. Somehow, ashamed for everything I did, for everything you did, for all the things we have and haven't done together.

Snow hits the window. It's Christmas soon. I'll probably celebrate it alone. Somehow, I don't feel much fond of loneliness after you.

I snap the window opened and frantically breath in searingly cold air, before climbing onto the chair in front of you. Curtains are flying around and almost breaking away under the pure pressure of wind gusts, and you're shivering, as I set the cup of tea before you. Black and bland, the kind you liked to drink, back when I still knew you. You take the cup in your hands and look at it. Then you walk over the window and shut it closed. The traces of snow lay melting on the floor. And suddenly the air in the room seems colder. We sit in silence. I don't know what you're thinking about, but my own mind is being invaded by memories, as I watch you from the corner of my eye.

You haven't changed much. Still piercing everything and everyone with the intense gaze, that got me hooked once. I wonder if you remember that we once wanted to get a puppy. Small, fluffy and wide-eyed. When we were walking around the streets, we used to take a note of every little dog we saw, and dream that one day such little creature would live with us. Then you used to laugh and comb my hair with your fingers before kissing me gently. And then we moved on in our way, talking about all sorts of nonsense. That was life.

Or maybe you remember how we wanted to get on the roof of a skyscraper? Just to see what lays below. Just to see everything from bird's-eye view. It was funny. So funny, that we didn't even make it to the roof. We got stuck in the elevator and had to sit there for few hours. You probably thought that I was scared, for you tried humoring me, telling some stories from you school days. It was funny and endearing that you always deemed yourself mentally stronger than me, and tried to serve me as protection in every way you could. I didn't really listen to you back then, I was busy thinking my own thoughts. For some reason, when you were around, I tended to think my thoughts. I regret it now.

There's another memory of you and me in my mind. Once we visited one of your friend, and it was early hours of night when we left. And I didn't want to go back home. Somehow, you changed me so that I was enjoying having walks outside. It was summer, but I was chilling. We stumbled upon a children playground and occupied the swings. It felt like we both suddenly turned into a five-year-olds. Then we got on the roundabout and you hugged me. Your embrace was warm and it lulled me into slumber. And you... you sat there for three hours straight, afraid to move and wake me up. You did not say a word after, didn't let anything betray your tiredness. Just like that cliché 'stone wall' everyone dreams about.

"I had dreams about you," you say suddenly, ripping me out of the memories. "I dreamed of every single moment we spent together, I saw it all in my dreams. I know you. But you don't know me."

I feel frozen.

You know that I didn't really leave you. Just like you have never left me. It just happened. There's no one to blame. Maybe, it was in fact just a dream. Or maybe someone wrote a story about us, and it came to its sad end. Because nothing lasts forever.

You stand up, leaving your cup of tea untouched, and turn to leave.

I watch you, and then you turn your head to look at me and say:

"Christmas's coming soon."

And your lips twist in some wry smile. I put my feet on the ground, to at least walk you to the door. It's then that you take a step closer and take my hand into yours for just a moment, leaving something in my palm. I feel like I'm not really processing the happenings, and I don't pay your gesture any attention, astounded with the way you act. I'm still staring at you. And you close the door of my house quietly, disappearing just as suddenly as you appeared, leaving only few snowflakes behind.

I finally tear my eyes off the door you closed, and look at the present you left me with. It's a golden christmas ball. Golden, like sun in the summer sky. Like the most treasured metal.

I don't know how much time I spend just staring at the little ball in my hand, but when I finally look up, it's you, whom I come face to face with. You didn't go away. And your eyes seem golden now, too.

My lips stretch in a hesitant smile, and then you wrap your arms around me, hugging so tightly that it almost hurts. And when I hug you in return, there's one thing I am certain about – there's so much for both of us to learn, but this time we will be happy. I know.

* * *

It's been a year of their reestablished (or should he say new?) relationship. Light quit his job in police and joined L in his career. And everything's fine. He even learns new things about L and himself everyday.

Apparently, L doesn't like his coffee in bed, he also hates most of the shows on TV, he's indifferent to any political happenings, and he's damn sure that it's the Scales of Justice, and not the Sword of it, that society's in dire need of.

And apparently, Light hates when someone leaves their hair all over the bathtub, and it also irritates him when that someone doesn't deem a soup a meal, and it's not even a surprise for him that he can bring himself to agree with that certain someone on certain things. Like Scales of Justice thing.

Everything around seems to calm down. Or maybe it's Light being delusional, but it's not his fault, really. He can't watch the news without L shutting the TV off, or switching the channel. And maybe L's right in what he does.

It feels so strange... Just a couple of years ago he was close to live as God, he took people's lives away everyday, he was incarcerated in his own little box of self-sacrificing and suffering.

And right now he laughs, and jokes, and has playful fights with the one he once deemed a nemesis, and at nights they even indulge themselves in things that Matsuda would describe as 'weird homosexual kinks'.

It's probably that certain feeling one gets, when all of the sudden things get better. And probably that's why he sometimes feels embarrassed and even ashamed of his sudden recover, the sudden comfort and consolation he obtained. It seems that just yesterday he laid dying of grief and pain, and now he's all bright and shiny, sparkling with some invisible beams. It's the spring blossoming and joy he has inside, the harmony of the whole universe, total silence and calm. He feels he knows everything – what's been, what's happening now, and what lies ahead. Nothing can touch him, nothing can hurt him or scare him – at least as long as he has someone to take care about.

This is how all the darkness, evil, doubt and regret evaporate. This is how the tough, suffocating disease of sadness passes by. This is how the time of peace and forgiveness comes.

He may have his regrets and the darkest secrets, but all of them are in the past. For he knows now, that all he needed was to recognize the importance of the present and the future, to watch his past recede and open new roads. The roads, that he will go through with the one he knows he cares about the most. And today... today he will tell L the story that he will or won't believe – the story of his past life.

There surely will be mistakes they will make, and they probably will live through some rough times, but... there's a whole new world before both of them. And this new life seems worth living.

The end

* * *

A/N:

[*] - Ryuk's talking about XXIX Death Note's rule: You cannot kill humans with less than 12 minutes of life left. Light's life span didn't change numbers spontaneously when he slept, so Ryuk couldn't know how long Light would remain alive while sleeping. That's why Light died without Ryuk's interference.

I'm sorry if the ending didn't live up to your expectations. To tell the truth, I don't like bad endings, so I just wanted to make both boys happy.

And huge thank you to everyone, who gave this story a chance. You, guys, are wonderful :3


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